After the BoneEater's Well
by Bons Baisers
Summary: Fanatics, clones, a reformed Sesshoumaru, and an adorable baby Inu. Winner of the Inuyasha FanGuild's Best Action and Best Original Character awards.
1. Discovery

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. Just love it.

"Kagome?" Souta eyed his sister warily from behind her partially opened door. The last time he had interrupted her before an exam, she'd thrown a particularly heavy art history textbook at his head.

"What do you want, Souta?" That was her tired voice, the one that always made him think of rain on a cold day. She didn't look at him.

"I, well, Grandpa and I, we found something in the shrine where the well used to be."

"Oh?" She still didn't look.

"You should see it," he urged her.

"Later, Souta. I have to study." The weariness left her tone, leaving an aching hollowness behind. Almost seven years had passed since the destruction of the well, but sometimes it seemed as if she would never leave those days lived in the past behind her. Souta could never know Naraku's evil first hand, but if the pain he had had caused Kagome was any indication, the bastard deserved to rot in the deepest pits of hell. On the verge of defeat, near death, Naraku's last act had been to destroy the link between the reincarnation of a woman he had desired and the half-demon he had hated by obliterating the Bone Well. Inuyasha had had the foresight to push Kagome through the passage before it was utterly destroyed, but was unable to follow her. So Naraku had accomplished his final evil.

Determined not to be put off, Souta took a deep breath and pushed her door a bit wider. "It's a message from the monk and the demon-hunter you used to travel with, sis. You should see it." She sat very still for a few moments. Finally, she rose and walked slowly past him, making her way to the shrine. He followed her, watching when she gathered up the scrolls, when she carried them to the house, and when she shut herself in her room with them. She didn't emerge again that evening.

The next morning, everyone stepped carefully around her, avoiding speech as much as was possible, and avoiding speaking to her directly at all. When they sat down to breakfast, the table was silent until she herself broke the stillness.

"They got married, you know. Sango and Miroku. When they wrote these for me, they had three kids. After they defeated Naraku, they went to the demon-hunter village and began to train a new generation of demon-hunters. They found a lot of shunned hanyou children who were willing to be trained. I actually knew some of the children they found. Evidently they were very successful, and lived very happy lives. I'm glad for them." Her voice broke a little, but she continued.

"Inuyasha didn't do so well. He… he was… Sango said she didn't think he was happy without… me… and…." She cleared her throat and looked down at her plate rather than at her family.

"He asked them to seal him away someplace where I could find him and break the seal in this era." She paused, still not looking at them. "Finals are next week. After that, I'm going to go away for awhile. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

Kagome spent the next few days in her room, studying for her tests, presumably. She left only to eat and to bathe and to sit her exams, and when she had taken her last final of the semester, she cancelled her registration for the following term. By dawn the day after that last test, her big yellow bag sat stuffed to the brim by the front door, and she was ready to go.

Souta never could remember why the image of his sister in the doorway stuck in his mind so, but it did. She was dressed in faded jeans and red sweater that was several sizes too big for her. She'd cut her hair not long after the well was destroyed, but it had grown out again, and it seemed to Souta that his big sister wasn't really any older than she had been back then. Their mother handed her a credit card and told her to use whatever she needed, they all hugged her and urged her to call home often, and then she was gone.


	2. Unexpected Encounters

Inuyasha is the brilliant brain-child of Rumiko Takahashi. I just enjoy baby-sitting.

_It shouldn't be this cold yet_, Kagome thought to herself, watching the rain wind in infinite little rivers down the windowpanes. The bus was almost empty, having deposited most of its passengers in a town a few miles behind her. She didn't really remember much of the journey from home, only that it had been gray and wet and uncomfortably cool. Nobody had spoken to her along the way or left the random impressions that strangers sometimes do, and it was probably just as well they hadn't. She had used most of the time trying to visualize her time in Sango's home village. Sango and Miroku had left the best directions to Inuyasha's shrine that they could, but they had known that five hundred years would divide their memories from her future need, and landmarks could easily disappear in the meantime. Consequently, they had been forced to be somewhat vague. Assuming that Kagome could locate the demon-slayers' village, whether or not it was still standing, they began their guidance there. If memory served her, the village ought to be a five or six mile hike from the next stop, a small neighborhood nestled in the foothills of the mountains.

"Ma'am? Are you sure you want to get out here? There isn't a hotel or anything around here, and it'll be two days before the next bus runs this route." The driver sounded worried, so Kagome thanked him for concern and tried, albeit somewhat half-heartedly, to reassure him.

"I have family around here. I'll be fine, thank you." It wasn't exactly a lie. She had thought of Miroku and Sango as family long before their final parting, and she hadn't said she had relatives living in the area, after all. She made her way out of the bus and into the rain. Shielding her eyes from the rain, she scanned the area for a convenience store of some kind in hopes of purchasing a few supplies, uncertain how long she would be in the mountains above. Soaked to the skin and already exhausted from the past day's traveling, she started up the mountain.

Her memories proved clearer and more accurate than she had expected them to. After a mile or two, she found herself standing in a large ravine, with a small but lively river coursing through it, one she clearly remembered as running immediately north of the demon-slayers' village. The river had shifted south a bit, but the bluffs carved out above it centuries before still towered a hundred feet above her, and a peculiar series of crevices that had always reminded her of scales retained their reptilian pattern. The village had been almost a mile directly south of those strange formations.

Though the natural world appeared as it had years before, precious little remained of Sango's village. Scattered along the ground were broken bits of bone – perhaps bones of demons that would have been used in armor and weaponry. Some pottery shards were discernable beneath the mud. Faint impressions betrayed the former presences of buildings and training areas. Briefly, Kagome wondered if perhaps some magic hadn't concealed the place from unwelcome eyes for all these years; it wasn't really that difficult to find if you knew what you were looking for, and the village was an archaeologist's dream come true. Now a student of art history at the University of Tokyo, a part of her promised to return to this place to gather the broken pieces of pottery if she ever got the chance.

Resting for a moment under the meager shelter of a large tree, Kagome pulled her transcripts of their letter from her bag, thankful she'd had the sense to protect the pages in plastic sheets before heading out.

_You would have been pleased with him, Kagome. Something about him softened a little after you left. I thought perhaps he was trying to be the kind of person he thought you would have wanted him to be – or maybe just the person you always knew he was. Something of the belligerence that always seemed to characterize him faded, and the compassion we always knew was there became more evident. Over the years, it became obvious to us that this softness sprang more from sadness than any conscious thought. _

_The most astonishing change wasn't in Inuyasha, though, if you can believe that. Sesshoumaru surprised us all. Five years after you returned to your world for the last time, Jaken showed up in the village with the announcement that Sesshoumaru had taken a bride – do you remember that little girl that always traveled with him? I don't think she could have been more than twelve or thirteen. Sango was scandalized, but when she complained about it to Inuyasha, he told her that Sesshoumaru would outlive Rin by hundreds or thousands of year, and he couldn't really blame him for taking advantage of every moment. She answered that he was certainly taking advantage of something. I think you infected her with the strange ideas of your world, because Rin was certainly of a marriageable age, and she'd already followed him into Hell once. Beautiful, too. A man can't ask much more of a girl, I suppose. At any rate, she was pregnant within the year, and when her half-demon daughter was born, Jaken appeared in the village once more to tell us about it. Inuyasha didn't seem to have any response to the news, but not long afterward, he told us he was going away for awhile. _

_He had serious injuries when he returned to us. Somehow, he had managed to locate and kill a fire-rat, and it was in the course of that battle that he was wounded. You probably only know about them because of Inuyasha's robe, but they're notoriously violent and dangerous demons, and exceptionally rare. Of course, he didn't know the first thing about curing the hide, so the people in the village to the south of us wound up doing it for him. He had run off some troublesome demons for them the year before, and the people there seemed to be sincerely grateful to him, despite his half-breed heritage. It was good for him, to be accepted and sincerely liked by such a large community. I don't think that had ever happened to him before. Miroku says I'm straying from the point. I don't think so._

_Inuyasha took the tanned hide to Aikomi, his niece. I don't think he expected the gift to be accepted, but it seemed important to him that he make the gesture. It wasn't long after that Inuyasha asked to be sealed_.

Kagome returned the notes to her bag, for she had nearly memorized everything that followed. Sesshoumaru had not returned the gift of the fire-rat skin. In fact, when Inuyasha had been sealed away, his elder brother had arrived at the shrine where Miroku and Sango were concealing their friend's body. Cradled in his remaining arm he had held his infant daughter, who cooed and gurgled, charmingly swaddled in red cloth.

_Don't hold this against him, Lord Sesshoumaru_, Miroku had said. _It could not have been an easy decision, and he has been suffering for a long time._

_He gave up_, Jaken had remarked disdainfully. A barely perceptible glance from Sesshoumaru evidently had warned him to change his tone or else to be silent; the little green demon had said nothing more.

_The woman… she will be the only person able to enter this place?_

_No, I and my wife, the fox-demon Shippo, the priestess Kaede – those who knew him best will be able to pass through the barriers._ Sesshoumaru had not answered that.

_I could change the wards to permit your entrance also, if you wish, Lord Sesshoumaru…._ Again, there had been no response, but Miroku had chosen to alter the wards anyway.

Kagome rose from her place beneath the tree, and began to head west, as her friends had directed her, trudging through the muddy earth. After a few hundred meters, a steep grassy hill rose before her, strangely devoid of trees. She circled its base, examining the ground closely, looking for the stone seal Miroku had described in his letter. Within moments she had located it. Nestled deeply into the hill, nearly hidden by mud and fallen leaves, lay a granite slab simply marked with Inuyasha's name and the names of those who would be permitted to remove the stone and enter into the chamber below. Reaching down, Kagome lightly touched the engraved symbols of her own name. The stone slide aside, revealing a dark stairway that descended into the hill.

Until now, Kagome had succeeded in keeping her doubts at bay, but peering down into the darkness, a black fear settled upon her. The light seemed very faint in the blackness; like dull scissors on leather, it was rendered ineffectual and valueless. After a few steps, the stone slab slid back into its accustomed place, drowning out the sound of the rain above and closing Kagome more completely in the shrine's shadowed depths. With a chill, it struck her that perhaps her friends had never really expected her to find their letter, or this place. Perhaps Inuyasha hadn't believed she would search him out in her own era. Perhaps the shrine, in truth, had always been intended to be a tomb.

She shuddered. Pushing that thought as far from her as she could, she edged down the narrow stairs.

Before long, an ominous, flickering light appeared on the walls of the stairwell. The steps curved downward, so that for a time Kagome could not see what lay at their base. When finally she reached the bottom stair, it was clear that the scintillating glow came from lighted torches that crackled from each wall of the small chamber. There in the center, on a bier of black stone, a small form lay wrapped in white fur. Arms encased in red sleeves rested lightly on the fur about them, and one little clawed hand curled loosely about a large white pearl. Kagome sank to her knees, stunned. The figure on the bier was not Inuyasha.

Where Inuyasha should have slept, there lay instead a little girl. A hundred thousand thoughts raced through Kagome's mind, tumbling over each other so that she was never entirely sure afterwards what her initial reaction had been. When she had called her mind to order, it became obvious that the girl on the bier had to be Sesshoumaru's half-demon daughter, but why was she here? She seemed to be only a child, but she had been born five hundred years before! After wrangling with these questions for a time, Kagome roused herself enough from her stupor to crawl toward the little girl.

If there had been any doubts as to the child's parentage in the confused furor of Kagome's mind, a closer look dispelled them. A purple crescent adorned the girl's forehead, and the ears that emerged from the crown of her head were long and soft and covered in long white fur – not at all like Inuyasha's, Kagome realized with vague relief. They fell down sweetly, adorably, like the ears of a cocker spaniel. Behind one shaggy ear was placed a wilted rose. Kagome smiled despite her suddenly complicated situation. She reached out a hand to stroke the luxuriant fur.

_Cold_. Kagome snatched her hand back in shock. _Dead?_ But there was nothing stiff about her, nothing rigid or lifeless. Just a terrible coldness. _Not breathing, _Kagome thought bewilderedly. Under her startled hand the child lay motionless.

"She won't move." From somewhere in the shadowy stairwell, a deep-throated voice resonated through the chamber, composed, calm. But somewhere beneath the cool tone a note of grief refused to be suppressed, reverberating through the stone room long after the voice itself had ceased to speak.

"Sesshoumaru." Logically, he was the only person who could have been there, the only person other than herself who had reason to be there. Logic hadn't led her to that conclusion however, any more than had recognition of his voice. She knew it instinctively, intuitively linking the still form on the bier, the carefully masked sadness, and the torches that should have been extinguished years ago, but burned brightly still, never allowing the child to be alone in the darkness.

From the shadows, a strange sight emerged. It was Sesshoumaru, but not as Kagome had ever seen him. Immaculately attired in black slacks and a dark silk shirt, whose one empty sleeve was tied neatly at the elbow, he appeared human, though every instinct at Kagome's disposal told her plainly that the person before her was a very powerful, very dangerous demon. His black hair was plaited back from his face in a single braid down his back, and Tensaiga was nowhere to be seen. A moment later, everything human about him dissolved away, except for his clothing and the conspicuously absent sword.

Her shock at this sudden transformation must have been written on her face, because he deigned to reveal the secret: reaching into a pocket, he withdrew a bronze-colored coin and rubbed it lightly between his forefinger and his thumb. Once more, his features seemed to blur, and when they cleared, they were human once again. He repeated the motion and upon returning to his demonic form, restored the coin to its pocket. He didn't bother to explain further, and she didn't ask. Gliding past her, moving with the smooth aristocratic grace that had always so distinguished him from his ever tense, ever battle-ready younger brother, the demon came to a halt at the foot of the stone dais.

Pulling the wilted flower from behind his daughter's ear, he replaced it with a fresh one drawn from somewhere within his shirt. He laid the backside of his hand against the child's cheek and murmured something to her in a language Kagome didn't recognize. The girl didn't stir, and Sesshoumaru stared at her for a long moment before lowering himself to his knees. He reached for her empty hand, careful not to jar the other, which still held the giant pearl, and he was still.

Feeling utterly spent, physically and spiritually, Kagome retreated to the far wall of the chamber and laid her head against the cold stone, watching. The lighted torches and the wilted flower seemed to indicate that Sesshoumaru's presence here was a common thing, even routine, and even Kagome's presence wasn't going to disturb this sad farce of a father-daughter ritual. His five hundred year grief settled on her, somehow both trivializing her need to find Inuyasha and accentuating it.

Without warning, a pair of golden eyes appeared immediately before her. She flinched and drew a breath in a painful gasp.

"Westerners came not long after Inuyasha sealed himself here." Sesshoumaru was now kneeling before her, watching her intently, gauging her reaction. "The Portuguese were the first. They brought guns and explosives, weapons even the most skilled samurai and the most powerful of demons could be easily felled by. More dangerous still, they brought religion.

"The Portuguese were devout Catholics, and the churchmen they brought with them to proselytize the East were appalled and terrified of Japan's demons. They sent for exorcists. The greatest of those formed a brotherhood, secretly supported by the papacy in Rome. They called themselves the Crianças de Sua Mão Esquerda, the Children of His Left Hand. Within twenty years, they had exterminated most of the lesser demons, and many of the greater ones had resorted to hiding among humans. All of that was later. Their warfare began with half-demons." At that, Sesshoumaru's eyes left her face to watch some blank point on the wall behind as he wove the rest of the story for her.


	3. In the Crypt

Inuyasha still isn't mine. Although I keep praying.

He couldn't look at her anymore. Her eyes had briefly shifted to the still form behind him. When they returned to consider his, their blue depths were fatigued, sad, but full of compassion. Damnation. As he silently debated how to summarize five hundred years of history for the girl, his memories dragged him back, howling for his notice, for pity. He clamped down on that hard. Treating his personal tragedy with indifference had been the best shield he could find to separate himself from it. But the young woman in front of him didn't seem to countenance his apathy any more than Holden had.

He scowled inwardly, though he was careful not to allow his ire to show on his face. Coming to this place always forced him to remember not only the darkness of those first years after Rin's death, but also the person who had come to inhabit the darkness with him, who had made the weight of his grief somehow more bearable. In the privacy of his own mind, he had long since admitted to himself that the mutual dependence they had formed was his single greatest weakness.

"_You should know that the Hand is aware of the bastard brother of the Lord of the Western Lands." Someone was speaking to him in the night, someone who smelled like blood, whose steps were heavy and weary. _

"_My brother is well protected." His voice felt strange in his throat. How long had it been since he had uttered speech? He couldn't remember. _

"_Only until the one he is bound to is able to revive him. If you do not believe that the Hand would wait five hundred years for their vengeance, you greatly underestimate them." Reason cut through his emptiness, leaving a sliver of light, a thread that yet connected him with the world about him._

"_How does one such as you know these things?" He finally permitted his eyes to rest on the stranger. _

_She should not have been alive. Covered in blood, she was pale in the darkness. A ragged hole tore through her western clothing, and through the white flesh beneath. No bigger than a child, but obviously fully grown, the woman seemed scarcely able to hold herself upright. A broken cough escaped her lips, and blood flecked her lips. She opened her dress and shamelessly dropped it to the ground, revealing the gruesome wound through her abdomen. For a human, it should have been fatal, but even as she stood, the flesh writhed, growing, twisting, healing. Sesshoumaru's eyes followed her hand to a less dramatic injury, however._

"_This," she told him, setting her hand against her bared left breast, "this is how I know." Burned and blackened flesh could not entirely mask the ink that had once marred her white skin. An outline of a tattooed black hand still remained visible, despite the apparent attempt to remove it. She dropped her head to one side. "You can slay me now, Lord Sesshoumaru. I would have spared you the trouble, but it appears that I am unable to take myself out of this world." She gestured to the wound in her belly._

_He drew his sword automatically, raising it high, preparing to send her to Hell. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Her body went limp. Sesshoumaru sheathed his sword._

"_You desire death."_

_She opened her eyes to regard him thoughtfully. "I desire atonement."_

"_I have neither the power nor the will to grant you that." He sheathed Tensaiga and turned to leave._

"_I would beg you, if I believed I could sway you." He ignored her and walked away. Behind him, a musical sound caught his ears, compelling him to halt. _

_She was laughing. The sound echoed in the darkness, sad and sweet, dark and rich. His impressions of it varied moment to moment, it seemed innocent and wise and wounded and tragic all at once, and it struck a chord with the black mass of emotions within his soul, as if his tragedy had found a voice. He looked back at her._

_She had fallen to the ground, her knees resting on the ruined dress, nude, pale, almost glowing with the moonlight above. Her arms she crossed over her breasts, holding herself. She raised her weird, western eyes, deep brown, almost black pools that reflected the moon at him. A few tears slipped from them, wound their way down her face, into strange pale wheat-colored hair. _

_She narrowed her wide, foreigner's eyes with cynicism and self-loathing. "I too, lost a child to the Hand."_

Sesshoumaru never could push memories of her away, not like Rin or Aikomi, but he kept his memories to himself, refusing to allow the old friendship to interfere with the task at hand. Instead, he informed the exhausted-looking woman before him of the things she needed to know dispassionately, disinterestedly.

Horrified by the idea that any human would permit the existence of a half-breed child, the Children of His Left Hand set out to destroy the half-demons first, to sever any possible links between men and demons. Because they were often only children, the Church set restraints on the Hand, insisting that half-demon or not, no child should be exorcised and sent to Hell. Instead, their souls were wrenched from their bodies and cast into the netherworld of Purgatory, never to be sentenced to Hell, but never to escape the antechambers of the afterlife, either.

Sesshoumaru had returned to the home he had made to be constructed for his wife and daughter to find Rin slain and his daughter neither dead nor living, neither condemned nor accepted, as hopelessly bound between one world and the next in the spiritual realm as she had been in the physical. Rin was lost to him; Tensaiga's magic would not work for her a second time, nor would it grant him access to his daughter's prison in Purgatory, a realm foreign to it. He had buried Rin in a grove of cherry trees, and would have done the same for his daughter, had the monk Miroku not forestalled his hand.

Having heard of Sesshoumaru's tragedy, the monk had hastened to tell the bereaved demon of a Chinese legend concerning a pearl that had the ability to preserve a body. If Sesshoumaru could keep Aikomi's body from decaying without its living spirit, he had counseled, there remained the possibility of penetrating Purgatory and retrieving her soul. Sesshoumaru had taken off after the pearl, leaving the soulless body of his daughter buried in an icy mountain peak to slow the inevitable decomposition. He had been successful, of course, and the pearl now rested in Aikomi's hand, her one last hope of restoration, though he had yet to devise a means of restoring her soul.

Because the monk had proven himself trustworthy, he had entrusted the demon-slayers with her protection, and they had hidden her behind the barrier of Midoriko's cave. Duty done to wife and child, Sesshoumaru set himself the task of eliminating those responsible for their destruction. Hundreds fell before him, and he had pursued the Hand across Asia to Europe. In an attempt to fight back against the demon lord, the Hand strove to discover all they could about their fearsome enemy, and discovered Inuyasha's existence.

"I returned to Japan and removed Inuyasha's sarcophagus from this place before the Hand had an opportunity to break the seals on the crypt, and concealed it deeply within the jungles of what is now India. Muslims didn't look any more favorably on demons than Catholics did, however, and when they seemed to gain the upper hand against their Hindu neighbors, I eventually removed him again. In Britain, after one of their kings formally severed ties with the papacy, I buried the sarcophagus in Westminster Chapel, believing that the Hand would not dare approach the stronghold of Protestant power. It was only a few generations after that a Catholic Queen took power, however, and I hid him once more in France, in the catacombs beneath Paris."

He turned his head to the girl behind him. "I brought her here when the last of the demon-slayers died, and Midoriko's tomb was no longer protected by their magic."

Kagome's head was reeling. Sesshoumaru must have sensed her discomfiture, for his eyes narrowed slightly, annoyed that she couldn't keep up. She was a little annoyed herself. Already shaken by Inuyasha's absence and Sesshoumaru's unexpected visit, he had the gall to ask her to follow five hundred years of revenge and secrecy?

"You're going to have to forgive me," she told him, looking him full in the eyes, surprised at her own lack of fear. _Too tired to be afraid_. Readjusting her position to a more comfortable one, she continued pointedly, "It's a little hard for me to absorb five hundred years in ten minutes. Besides, the last time I saw you, you wanted Inuyasha dead." Something flashed in his eyes, but passed too quickly to be identified.

He looked away for a long moment. "I couldn't save her." Kagome wasn't sure if he meant Rin or Aikomi and he didn't bother to tell her. "Perhaps there is some redemption for me in denying the Hand what is left of my family." He paused, and then looked at her again. A strange note entered his voice.

"Rin would have wanted you to find Inuyasha."

"In Paris?" she answered wryly, no longer piqued. Nothing else could surprise her today. She just didn't have the strength left to be surprised.

Nor, apparently, had she strength enough to rise to her feet, because she stumbled before she'd even fully risen. Sesshoumaru caught her easily, springing to his feet in a blur of motion; then he surveyed the watermarks left behind on the silk of his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she faltered, feeling a little embarrassed. He did not acknowledge her apology. Instead, he moved toward the stairs, and for a moment or two was hidden from her view. Afraid he may have left, she started after him, but her exhaustion made her dizzy and she sat down hard on the stone floor.

He reappeared at the foot of the stairwell. "Remove your clothing." In his hand he held an expensive-looking coat.

She shook her head, not even surprised at the presumptuous command. "Everything in my bag is just as wet." He held the coat out to her. _Oh_. _There should be something humiliating about this_, she thought, too tired to care. She made her way to the stairwell, moving slowly in her dizziness, took the coat, and stepped up a few stairs for the questionable protection of the central stone column of the spiral stairway. She stripped her clothes off, leaving only her soaking undergarments, and slid into the coat. Emerging, she stumbled again, and once more Sesshoumaru caught her. She apologized again, but her apology ended abruptly in a series of coughs. _That's what you get for running around outside on cold rainy days, stupid,_ she thought miserably, eyes drooping.

"Humans are fragile," he answered indifferently. "I will never understand how you have acquired such power." He pulled her in closely to his side, finally surprising her a little, and suddenly she was out of the chamber and far above the rainy sky, flying. Sleep overtook her, however, and her exhaustion stole the experience from her.


	4. The Good Doctor

Nope. Inuyasha and crew still not mine.

"You left her in the cold too long." _English? Not American, though…British?_

"I had believed she had better sense than to traipse through the country during a fall rain." Sesshoumaru's English was flawless, lightly colored with the same British accent as the woman he was speaking with.

"Well, she didn't, but you should have known better than to leave her sopping wet in that icy cold crypt."

"I had her change her clothes."

"You ought to have brought her here immediately," the woman insisted. Her voice was low and musical, and though her tone was chastising, affection and humor colored the delicious dark timbre.

"I'm a fool to allow you to condescend to me in such a manner."

"To let me tease you, you mean?"

"You do realize you only survive because you have the crest."

"This little thing? You really don't take my head from my shoulders on account of this?" A deep-throated chuckle. "You could, if you wanted to. You're fast enough. But you won't." The woman with the deep voice laughed again, but the sound was full of indulgent affection. "Poor Sesshoumaru. I could explain it to you. But I won't. If it helps, I wouldn't tease you if I didn't like you so."

"Impertinent."

"Yes," the woman agreed pleasantly. "Oi, are you awake there?" Her Japaense was heavily accented.

Kagome shifted a little to indicate that she was. She felt miserable. Her face burned, but her hands and feet were freezing. A tickle in her throat forced a succession of coughs; they were deep and wet and painful.

"Flu?" she asked gloomily.

"That's what it looks like, dear." Sesshoumaru retreated from the room, and the deep-voiced woman came to sit on the edge of the bed Kagome had wakened in. She was pale and tiny and obviously western, with icy blonde hair and big brown eyes that danced with humor. A lab coat gave her away as some kind of doctor. "He really didn't think you'd be there, you know. Last week was miserable in Japan. Not that he wouldn't have waited around for you."

"I thought he came for Aikomi."

"Of course he did. But he also came for you."

"Who are you?"

"Just a friend." Doe-like eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Please."

"Dr. Anastasia Holden-Truelove. Holden." She laughed her sweet, dark chuckle. "He refuses to call me by my full last name – ridiculous, I think, was the word he used – and he is simply too thoroughly Japanese to use my first. So – Holden."

"You seem to know him pretty well." Kagome struggled to sit up, and the tiny doctor moved quickly to help her.

"We've been together a long time, he and I. Someday I'll get him to even admit that he likes me. Or at least that my company hasn't been unbearable all these years." She surveyed Kagome critically. "Hungry?" she asked. When Kagome nodded, the strange British doctor patted her hand and swept out of the room.

The bed Kagome was now sitting in, propped up against innumerable pillows, was massive, and the bedclothes that tangled around her feet were luxuriously soft. The room itself could have been a cut-out from a home decor magazine: "Romantic Weekend Get-Away" or "A Woman's Touch." White lace covered the windows, dainty eyelets dressed the sheets, and little touches of sage green and pale blue appeared in pillows and flowers scattered throughout the room. In a white marble hearth a fire merrily crackled away, and once again Kagome was struck by the surreal juxtaposition of Sesshoumaru and her world.

"Exquisite, isn't it? So frothily feminine I could puke." _Inuyasha!_ There, standing in the doorway, looking very smug stood none other than the half-demon himself.

Except… his eyes were wrong. _Too soft_, Kagome thought instantly, insanely. _They're too soft_! Humor lit the golden orbs, making them sparkle in the firelight. He strove to keep a playful smile from his lips, but did not seem especially concerned that he was failing miserably. His whole demeanor was easily confident – not the strutting arrogance of someone who had something to prove, but pure self-assurance.

_That's _NOT_ Inuyasha!_ Kagome realized, panicked.

"Who are you?" she demanded, throwing the bedclothes back.

"What gave me away?" The figure in the door grinned impishly. The silver-haired, golden-eyed, clawed, fanged, dog-eared person approached her bed.

"Everything," she spat furiously, forcing her aching body away the monstrous bedstead, backing up against the lacy windows. The glass was ice cold behind her. "You don't move like he does, you don't talk like he does, you're _not_ him!" The smile on the person's lips turned into a concerned frown.

"You shouldn't be up, ace, you're sick," he admonished her. "No, I'm not him, but I'm not going to hurt you, and you really should get back in bed." Angry and confused, she hurled a table lamp at him; he caught it easily and leapt over the bed to restore it to its place. He reached for her.

"Come on. Back to bed." She raised a hand and slapped him hard across the mouth. Rushing away, she tripped over the tassels on the rug. She fell to the floor with a cry. Tears stung her eyes as realized she had unwittingly added carpet-burn to her other miseries. She felt him move toward her.

"Six! Damn you, Six, I told you to leave her alone!" In the doorway, the doctor stood with a silver tray. She looked extremely upset.

"She can take care of herself, Holden," the fake Inuyasha answered, ruefully rubbing his red cheek. "I just wanted to see."

Kagome scrambled to her feet, dizzily making her way to the fragile blonde woman, who quickly set the tray down on the floor to help her patient back to bed. Once there, Kagome could no longer hold back the tears that had threatened her ever since she had found Sesshoumaru's daughter where Inuyasha ought to have been.

"Agh! Don't cry, ace, I didn't mean to scare you!" A clawed hand reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched away. "Oh, shit." His tone was chagrined, a little ashamed. It sounded very much like Inuyasha, when he'd made her cry, and that made her tears the more bitter.

"Go, Six. I'll deal with you later," Holden commanded flatly. Kagome felt the woman's arms encircle her, and she sobbed into the little British doctor's lab coat for some time.

When her tears had spent themselves, she drew away and stared at her rescuer. "Who is he?" she demanded, having finally smothered her initial hysteria. "How could he look so much like _him_?"

"He's someone you weren't supposed to meet yet, dear. You were beginning to succumb to your exhaustion in the shrine, and Sesshoumaru became more concerned with getting you into a warm bed than with catching you up on the past five hundred years." She looked at the door that the fake Inuyasha had left ajar when he'd left the room.

"He does mean well, you know. Six is a good man. Better tempered than Sesshoumaru, or Inuyasha, from what I understand. But compassion," she paused, "Well, perhaps 'understanding' is a better word, is a gift none of them have been especially blessed with." Kagome didn't answer her. She hadn't felt like she was in danger, only viciously tricked. But maybe he hadn't even intended to do that?

"Who is he?" she asked again after a moment, allowing the doctor to draw the blankets up around her complaining body.

Holden drew a deep breath and blew it out heavily. "It appears that even the great Lord Sesshoumaru can make a mistake once in awhile. He believed that his brother was safe in the Parisian catacombs. He was wrong. Four years ago, agents of the Crianças de Sua Mão Esquerda located Inuyasha's sarcophagus and took it from its hiding place beneath the city. Since that time, Sesshoumaru has diverted all of his considerable talents and resources to retrieving his brother, knowing that you would soon find the letters left in the remnants of the Bone Eater's Well for you."

"The Hand is still around?" The hysteria she believed she had overcome threatened to rise again. "Inuyasha… what's happened to Inuyasha?"

"Hush, I'm getting there." The doctor frowned slightly, her expression rueful. "It's a complicated story, and if Six hadn't absolutely destroyed my plans, I wouldn't have subjected you to it just yet."

Kagome waited rigidly, impatient. Holden evidently noted it; she took Kagome's hand in her own small white one and hastened to set her mind at ease.

"For the record, until the seals on Inuyasha are broken – by you, my dear – he absolutely cannot be killed. Nor can his soul be separated from his body, as Aikomi's has been. So you can at least be sure that he is alive, so far as one sealed can be alive. Retrievable may be a better word." Kagome relaxed slightly, but kept her eyes firmly fixed on the little Englishwoman.

"And yes," Holden continued, "the Hand still exists, and it has become more powerful than ever. The Church, during the Catholic Reformation, cut ties with the Hand, supposedly appalled at their brutality. In truth, the Church was in desperate need of an improved image in the face of the Reformation. The Hand is now a rogue element, free to pursue their own ends, but they remain first and foremost exorcists and demon-slayers. They are better armed and better trained than most military apparatuses, and have not been particularly careful to follow the law in obtaining such arms and training."

Her tone grew very serious, and the gaze with which she regarded Kagome was grave. "For a couple of decades now, they have been illegally experimenting with genetic enhancements and cloning. Which leads us back to your old friend and the man you just met." Frank brown eyes watched her intently, waiting for her to draw the appropriate conclusion.

Kagome closed her eyes, not entirely able to comprehend everything she was hearing. Only the misery of stifling congestion and painfully cramped muscles convinced her that she wasn't dreaming. "Cloning."

"Yes."

Kagome swallowed hard. "That… person… is a clone of Inuyasha?" The question sounded flat in her own ears.  
"I wouldn't say that to his face, dear, but yes, that's technically correct."

"Then the number means…"

"That there were others. Yes."

"Were."

"There were seven of them, originally. Six is an exact genetic duplicate of Inuyasha. The others, excepting One and Seven, were further enhanced with other demonic genes. Three, Four, and Five were uncontrollably, indiscriminately violent, and the Hand themselves terminated Three and Four. Six and Seven appeared in reaction to the failed enhancement experiments. Five and Two escaped together and appear to be working in conjunction with one another. They are extremely dangerous, but thus far have interfered with us very little." Kagome said nothing.

Wispy blond brows furrowed in worry, but the doctor continued anyway. "Seven is another matter altogether. He is precisely what they had in mind when they began the cloning process with Inuyasha: physically, he is just like his progenitor and Six, a half-demon equal to most any demon, but mentally he is completely under the authority of the Hand." Kagome was still for a moment longer, allowing the words to settle.

"Why do they want Inuyasha at all?" she asked slowly. Pieces of the story she had entered into were beginning to come together, but a few loose ends nagged at her. "Do they just want to kill him because he's a half-demon?"

Holden sighed again. She set her fragile chin in the palm of her hand, resting her elbow on the night table. Her slender fingers rolled rhythmically against flawless peaches and cream skin. She smiled a quirky, partly ironic, partly sad kind of smile. "They want him, Miss Higurashi, because they are human. They want Inuyasha because they have suffered grief and humiliation and pain at Sesshoumaru's hands, and because they wish to inflict the same upon their enemy."

As Holden spoke, Kagome grew more and more confident in her conclusions. "They need me, then."

Holden looked up sharply, suddenly wary. Kagome noted the sudden change, filed it away as something to think about later.

"Don't they," she stated with certainty, bringing her attention to the matter at hand. Holden nodded slowly, mute.

"And Sesshoumaru brought me here to protect me from them. To keep them from using me to wake Inuyasha." She paused as something else occurred to her. "How did he know exactly when I would appear at the crypt?"

Holden stared at her in astonishment for a moment. Then she smiled, though her eyes were still a bit wide. "It wasn't difficult, with the help of the monk and the demon-slayer, to deduce precisely how many years divided you and Inuyasha. The priestess, Kaede, seemed certain that neither the scrolls left you by your friends nor Inuyasha's crypt would be accessible to you until that number of years had passed for him in slumber."

The little woman bit her lip guiltily. "We had you under surveillance, dear, for much of the last six months, so we knew when your young brother located the scrolls."

"Ah." Kagome nestled into the covers, discontent, but too tired to argue.

The doctor smiled. "Though neither of us believed you would trek through the mountains in such weather. Sesshoumaru's appearance at the crypt actually was sheer coincidence." Kagome wasn't certain she believed that, until she remembered the wilted flower and the burning torches, and her own impression that Sesshoumaru visited the crypt frequently. Either way, she was too miserable to concern herself about it further.

A few final questions demanded voice, however, and she asked them.

"What happened to One?" To her surprise, Holden smiled.

"The Hand developed One before they recognized the potential of forced

maturation. Unlike Three through Seven, and Two to a degree, One looks and acts his true age. He's in my room, at the moment. He doesn't much care for nap-time, but with Sesshoumaru and Six around, would you argue?"

Kagome sighed. Her aching muscles and the first signs of a nasty headache warred with her curiosity. Setting One aside, "What about this place? Where am I?"

"You're forgetting that there were well over four hundred years between Sesshoumaru's taking vengeance for Rin and Aikomi and the theft of Inuyasha's sarcophagus from Paris. In the meantime, Sesshoumaru made himself an extremely wealthy and powerful player in human politics and economics, realizing that more than the skills of a warrior would be necessary to fight the Hand. This is his London home."

"Not what I would have expected," Kagome commented, fingering the delicate eyelets of her pillowcases.

"Decorators," Holden shrugged daintily. "We'll find you a room more suited to you when you feel better; this one just happened to have a fireplace and be on the first floor. He was concerned when he realized you were not only exhausted, but quite ill."

"Concerned?" Kagome tried to laugh, but her laughter turned into a series of painful coughs.

"That's quite enough for now, I think," Holden told her, rising smartly to her feet. "The food is probably cold. Do you want something else? Or would you rather just sleep?"

"Sleep," Kagome answered fervently. Her head was beginning to throb painfully, and now her throat was sore as well.

"Very well." The tiny woman turned to leave.

"Wait!" Kagome remembered. "How did Six and One end up here, with Sesshoumaru?" Holden looked over her shoulder.

"That's Six's story to tell," she answered.

"Tell him I'm sorry I threw the lamp at him," Kagome told her.

Holden raised her slender shoulders. "He had it coming. He should have known better than to shock you like that, and even if he hadn't, I specifically told him to leave you alone. I'm only sorry you didn't hit him with it." And with that, the little British lady exited the room, and left Kagome to half-dreams and fevered visions of multiple Inuyashas, murdered half-demons, and behind it all, an ominous hand, poised to strike.


	5. One

Yet another disclaimer: Once more, Inuyasha and his world belong to Rumiko Takahashi.

She opened her eyes some time later, and for what seemed like the millionth time in the past few days, she was greeted by a pair of big honey-colored eyes. This time, though, they were set in a much smaller, rounder face.

"You smell good," the little boy noted. "Even though you smell like sick." He stood by her bed, standing on cushions he'd obviously pulled from some of the surrounding chairs. His arms lay crossed on the bedclothes, and his chin rested upon them. He rocked his head back and forth in the little random movements small excitable children are prone to, spilling silver locks into his eyes.

"I'm glad you think so," she answered, bemused, shifting so that she could reach out from under the covers. Her headache was gone, thankfully, but every muscle in her body ached and her breath rasped in her chest. She reached to tweak the child's ears.

"Not the ears!" the boy exclaimed indignantly as her hands moved toward his head.

"Oh. I'm sorry," she apologized, captivated by the lively child. She brushed hair out of his eyes instead; this intrusion on his dignity he graciously permitted. "You need a haircut."

"Eh." He shrugged, a big movement that somehow engaged the whole of his small body. "It's just hair."

"Aren't you cold?" Kagome asked, feeling goose bumps rise on her exposed arm. The fire had died at some point during her attempt to sleep. She coughed, apologetically covering her mouth.

"Nah. Not too bad." Kagome smiled and pointed to his arm, where fine silver hairs contradicted his denial. "Damn," the three-year-old commented conversationally, unfazed.

"Come up here," she invited, moving over to give him the warm spot. He scrambled up beside her and burrowed under the blankets until nothing below his chin could be seen. "Better?" The child gave a noncommittal grunt, but then grinned up at her and settled his icy cold feet against the top of her thighs.

_He could have been mine._

The realization hit her like a blow to the gut. If Naraku hadn't destroyed the well. If Inuyasha hadn't forced her through as the gateway collapsed behind her. If they hadn't been separated, they could have easily had a child this age by now, with a big grin and tiny fangs. With silver hair that refused to stay put. With Inuyasha's eyes.

But this wasn't a fulfillment of those dreams. This wasn't her child, it was Inuyasha, artificially copied and shrunk down, stripped of his cynicism and bad memories and defensive mechanisms. An Inuyasha so trusting that he could clamber into bed with a stranger and warm his very cold, clawed little feet on her legs.

"Are you crying?" the boy asked curiously. "Why?" He pulled his feet away. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, its fine. I'm being stupid." She wiped at her eyes and forced a smile. "You're One, aren't you? You look a lot like someone I used to know."

"I look like Six, but I don't think he knows you very good. Why'd you throw the lamp at him?"

"He made me mad."

"Guess that's not a good idea."

"No," Kagome agreed, and One curled his feet around her knees. "When the person you remind me of made me angry, I would tell him to 'sit,' and because there was a spell on him, he had to do it. He wound up with his face in the dirt a lot."

"I must be smarter than him, then," the child said wisely.

"Oh?"

"You threw a lamp at Six and you made this other guy eat mud all the time, and I already know better than to piss you off."

"You've got a dirty mouth for a three-year-old." Kagome frowned. "Come to think of it, you're really good with words at all for a three-year-old."

"Sesshu didn't like baby-talk. So I learned to talk fast."

"_Sesshu_?" Kagome gasped.

One nodded. "I couldn't say it right when Six and I first came here. Now I say it just because it annoys him. You might throw lamps at me for making you mad, but he never does anything but give me dirty looks." He glowered ferociously. "And correct my grammar."

"One, I told you not to come in here!" The man Holden had called Six looked around the edge of the door, warily surveying the room.

"Come in, Six, she's not gonna hurt you unless you make her mad." _Out of the mouths of babes_, Kagome thought, darkly amused. One was a bright child. Why hadn't the older versions ever caught on?

"I came in to say hello, and she started pitching furniture at me. You come in to spy on her and she invites you into bed with her. Women!" Six sighed theatrically. "Seriously though, as long as you're awake, you want something to eat? Ana's a hell of a cook." He looked at One. "How about you, runt? You hungry?"

"I am if Ana's cooking!" He shot out of the bed and out the door, without so much as a goodbye. Six smiled at Kagome lopsidedly.

"Your fire died. I'll build you a new one, if you promise not to lob the nightstand at me."

"I'm sorry about that. I wasn't ready to see… that face." _I'm still not._

Six knelt in front of the fireplace, and began to kindle a fire in it. "My fault. I had some weird idea about telling you about everything that had happened. I should have let Ana handle it instead of surprising you like that." A flicker of light indicated that he'd managed to light the hearth. He reached for bigger pieces of wood to build around the flame. "In fact," he continued, as if he'd read her mind, "if you'd rather One and I stay out your way indefinitely, that's alright too. The last thing I want to do is be trouble for you, ace."

"Why do you keep calling me ace?" she asked abruptly, not answering him.

"Dunno. It fit." He grinned. "Maybe it's just because I don't have a name myself."

"Why don't you?"

"Full of questions, aren't you? I seem to remember that. Anything that guy didn't want to talk about, you had a million questions for him."

Kagome froze. "Remember… you? You remember?"

"Side-effect of forced maturation. All of the clones, except One and maybe Two, have some limited access to that guy's memories. Not much, mostly feelings, impressions, a few images. Mostly of you. Some of another girl who looked a lot like you." He grinned his lopsided smile again. "Don't freak out, ace. It's not hard to distinguish my own experiences from his. I'm not looking to rekindle a love affair from a life that was never mine."

"Love affair?" Kagome demanded, pushing herself into a sitting position. He frowned.

"Wasn't it? The residual impressions were so pronounced that I thought..." his voice trailed off as she glared at him.

"You thought we were sleeping together?"

"Hey, these are his memories, ace, not mine. And no, not specifically, but the feelings were so powerful that I assumed the two of you had a physical thing together. I didn't mean to offend you." She settled back down into the bed, reclining against the headboard.

"You didn't. I was just surprised. I guess… I guess I'm glad to know," she answered softly. _Inuyasha…_

Six shrugged. "If you ever doubted that he loved you, you shouldn't have. That he was confused maybe, but not that he didn't love you." She turned away, determined not to cry, but not sure her resolve would hold if she had to keep looking at this facsimile of the man she had loved for so long.

"We'll get him, ace. Sesshoumaru's got god-knows-how-many people working on this. His hands were tied before – even if he'd found Inuyasha, he couldn't have wakened him, or protected him indefinitely. The Hand is too strong for that. Then One and I showed up, and that complicated things even further. All of a sudden there were an extra two people to protect." He grinned then, a charming, sloppy, off-center smile. "Not that _I_ need any protection. Not from them. But I keep my head down, for One's sake."

"Are you close?" Kagome asked, wanting to get away from the topic of Inuyasha before she could cry again. Tears only made the congestion worse, and she was already miserable forcing lumps down her scratchy throat.

"Who? Me and One?"

"Yes. And you and Sesshoumaru."

"One and I are. Genetically, we're identical, but that's a tough concept for a three-year-old, so Sesshoumaru and Ana and I just told him that he's our little brother. Tell you the truth, One's the only reason I'm not just like Seven."

"Come again?"

"Seven and I were made as a pair. Perfect genetic matches to that guy. A number of what you might call brainwashing sessions had pretty well inundated the two of us in Hand doctrines. They even had me believing that One and Seven and I were some kind of monsters for having demon blood. For the first year of my life, I bought all that shit. Then they decided that with two perfect weapons at their disposal, there wasn't any need for the little half-demon brat they were trying to corrupt. Too much work, too much time."

Kagome thought she saw where he was going. "They decided to terminate their experiment?"

"Exactly. Seven insisted that we were only tools, after all, so it was okay. I couldn't make myself believe him. I grabbed One and never looked back. Before very long it was pretty obvious that I'd been lied to about everything. Sesshoumaru and Ana found us in a cave in the Himalayas before the week was out."

He shrugged. "Anyhow, this is the second time I've kept you away from a meal. You feel like coming down, or do you want me to bring something up to you?"

"I'll go down with you, if you don't mind." She started to get out of bed, but Six swooped down over her and picked her up, blankets and all. She gave him a startled look.

"Ana'd have my ass if I let you wander around in your condition," he explained with a smile, and started out the door.

Kagome perched there in his arms stiffly, her body unyielding. _He's being so nice,_ she thought unhappily. _I don't want to get him in trouble, but Inuyasha would be so jealous. _ She imagined what his face would look like if he could see his double holding her this way and stifled a sudden insane urge to giggle. _Stupid. I even miss that. _

"What about you and Sesshoumaru?" she asked, as he carried her through the house. The place was enormous, castle-like, and every inch was as lavishly decorated as the room she'd wakened in. "You never answered that part of my question." Maybe he could distract her from her discomfort.

Six halted for a moment and looked down at her. _His eyes are so open, so sincere. I'm glad for that. It makes him different._ Inuyasha's eyes were always hooded, guarded.

"He saved One. He took us in, protected us. I'm not really sure you could call that close. You've met him; I don't think anyone gets 'close' to Sesshoumaru. Except maybe Ana." He smiled his charming smile. "One adores him, though. He reads the runt stories in French and German, so he's got my loyalty, if it ever comes down to it."

"Sesshoumaru reads to him?" She couldn't quite wrap her head around that.

"It's not his fault. One never seemed intimidated by him, so when he wanted something, he pretty much just demanded it, like he would from anybody else. The second night we were here, he scrabbled up into the guy's lap and insisted on a story. Sesshoumaru never really had a chance.

"As to reading the brat stories in other languages, he discovered almost immediately that if One understood what he was hearing, he'd have a million questions before they were through the first page. Sesshoumaru didn't really have the patience for that, so they compromised."

He grinned. "Ana and I get stuck with all the story-book questions, since we end up reading in English and Japanese. 'Why didn't anybody else have the same size foot she did?' Couldn't answer that one. 'Where did she go to the bathroom, if she was stuck in a tower with no doors all her life?' That was fun." Kagome laughed in spite of herself, and though her laughter turned to wrenching coughs once more, she felt better than she had in a long while.


	6. Blackbourne Estate

Still Rumiko Takahashi's brilliance.

Sesshoumaru sat quietly by the window, watching the rain glitter in the firelight as it splattered on the glass. It always seemed to be raining in England, but the manor house happened to be his favorite and Holden was most at ease in British territory, so he endured the dismal weather. Beside him lay a well-worn copy of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_, neatly bookmarked, but set aside, forgotten. From the hearth a delicious fragrance of cedar warmed the room, a corner study that Sesshoumaru had claimed as his own centuries before. Holden teased him occasionally about his preference for wood fires over central heat – primitive, she called him – but the perfumes and fragrant woods she set into his hearth every night betrayed her own preference. Not that he required artificial heat anyway; he scarcely noticed the temperature. No, the fires were for Holden and any staff that happened to be around. But they were attractive to look at and pleasant to smell, and he'd more or less become accustomed to the sight of a fire in his study hearth.

He turned his head slightly to regard the dancing flames. It seemed odd that Holden's ancestral home should be his preferred dwelling, but such it was. _Perhaps not so strange_, he mused to himself. Holden was comfortable here, at home here, and her ties to the place may have influenced his perceptions of the manor. Even so, certain pieces of it had been clearly marked out as his and hers – and this study was his. She would have said the manor and its grounds in their entirety belonged to him, because he had purchased them, but Sesshoumaru had never considered Blackbourne Estate anymore his than hers. They were, and always had been, full partners, bound by their common goals and shared grief.

A pang of guilt struck his spine. If he had been the brother he ought to have been, if he had fulfilled his father's wishes, would Inuyasha have been such a partner? He pushed that thought firmly away. It always brought painful images of things that could have been, and of that one brief moment when they had been forced to act together to destroy their father's infamous sword. Scarcely a year before Inuyasha's sealing, Sesshoumaru had finally understood the reason for his brother's existence, had finally forgiven his father for having sired the half-blood. For the first time that he could recall, Sesshoumaru had known regret.

"_How old is Rin, Jaken?" Sesshoumaru had asked one night. She smelled of blood and fertility and womanhood, and the sudden blossoming had taken him off-guard._

"_Eleven, my Lord, or perhaps twelve." _

_It seemed that he had known humans aged more quickly than demons, but Rin had only been with him for six years. That she could so rapidly move from one phase of her life into the next was unsettling._

_He had watched her carefully after that night. She entered a growth spurt; it had startled and strangely frightened him. At times he fantasized that he could see her grow and change before his eyes, hear her bones lengthening and the difference in her step as her body matured. His new awareness unnerved him. Watching her brush her hair one day, he had realized, appalled, that only fifty or sixty years separated the girl from her grave._

_It was not difficult to admit that he would regret her eventual death. She fit into his life as naturally as Jaken or Ah-Un did; she had become one of the fixtures of his existence. Nor was it difficult at first to accept that she would die, or that he would continue without her. That was simply the way of things. Yet he found himself dwelling on the eventual separation more and more as her wiry young body developed the curves of womanhood, as her piping voice settled into a sweet, lilting alto. As the year of her maturing wore on, he learned to admit to himself that he desired more time with her, and began to understand his father's obsession with the human woman who had borne Inuyasha. The day he came to understand that Inuyasha had been his father's living legacy of his love for Izayoui, a part of his beloved that would live centuries after her death, that day he had informed Rin of his decision to wed her._

"What are you thinking about, Sesshoumaru?" came Holden's deep, musical voice, laced with humor.

"My thoughts are none of your concern," he told her icily, unpleasantly jolted from his reverie.

"That sweet child's stirred up a lot of memories for you, hasn't she, dearest?" He felt his eyes widen slightly at her uncanny ability to interpret his mind, and he silently cursed his momentary weakness.

She laughed darkly, richly, observing the minute change. "Poor darling. I'm certain you deserve it, though. I would be willing to bet my favorite pair of shoes that you tried to kill her once or twice back then."

Another pang of guilt. He didn't deign to answer her. She must have felt his unease, because her amused expression fell somewhat.

"I'll leave off teasing you, love," she told him, a more kindly smile on her lips. She dropped to her knees at his feet. Her white laboratory coat spilled out behind her. "I really only came to tell you what our Tokyo operatives have reported." He waited expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well… nothing at all, truth be told. There hasn't been any unusual activity at the Higurashi shrine, so it seems as if they don't know we have the girl yet."

"Keep the surveillance in place, Holden," he instructed. "They'll know soon enough, and they won't hesitate to get to her through her family." Holden gave him a withering look, and he stared back at her unapologetically, though inwardly he kicked himself for stating the obvious.

He gathered his dignity and tried again. "Set up additional surveillance teams on all known Hand facilities. When they find out she's here, they may attempt to remove Inuyasha to a more secure location."

She regarded him skeptically. "Slim, Sesshoumaru. You're just looking for something to do because you cannot abide waiting." She paused a moment and looked down at her hands, not even giving him the satisfaction of viewing his dangerously cold countenance.

"It's not a _bad_ idea, though," she admitted slowly, rocking back on her heels. She stripped off the coat absently, revealing the white slacks and pink blouse beneath. "They'll have to mobilize to some degree in order to mount a retrieval expedition. And it's a pretty sure bet that whichever facility marshals its manpower will be the one prepared for her arrival. If Inuyasha isn't already there, they will either have to bring him in or transport her to his location. Either way, we have an opportunity to locate him."

"Not if he isn't at the mobilizing base," Sesshoumaru pointed out, too intrigued by Holden's reasoning to be irritable. "Unless we allow her to be captured long enough for them to bring him to her. I don't want control of the situation to be so far out of our hands."

Holden fell silent, contemplating that.

"Still," he mused, "if the mobilizing base is the one they have prepared for the Higurashi woman, we can probably assume that they will be in communication with the other, unknown location where Inuyasha would be held. We could mount an attack on the one base to discover the other. In which case they will definitely want to hide Inuyasha in a more secure location, because the original would have been compromised."

"And we could recover him while they are vulnerable, during the transport." Holden finished with satisfaction.

Then she swore. "It's all so damn speculative," she complained. "If. Probably. Assume. What if bases we don't know about are the intended facilities?" She sighed. "What do we know for certain?"

Sesshoumaru considered. "They have Inuyasha. They want the seals on him broken in order to kill him. And they know Higurashi is the only person capable of removing the seals. It follows that they will make some attempt to force her to do so."

Holden frowned. "I will not hand that sweet little girl over to the Hand, Sesshoumaru. We'll have to think of something else."

Somewhat affronted, he replied stiffly, "I had no intention of giving the Higurashi woman to the Hand."

Her face softened. "Of course you didn't. You just said as much, didn't you? I'm sorry I even suggested it." He didn't answer, not to spite her, but because his sharp ears had caught the sound of movement and voices in the corridor beyond his study. The heavy cherry doors with their brass knockers swung wide to reveal Six and the girl in question.

Holden smiled, sweeping past him. "Feeling better, are we, dear?"

"Yes, thank you," Kagome answered awkwardly. She rested stiffly in Six's arms. An anxious scent and a rapidly beating heart betrayed her discomfort to Sesshoumaru.

"Put her down, Six," he told his brother's clone, his tone mild and disinterested. Knowing eyes snapped up towards him, like Holden's did when he spoke in such a tone. Damn the girl. And damn Holden. He should just stop talking.

"I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here," the girl was saying softly from the chair Six had set her in.

"I do not require your thanks," he responded coldly. Hurt bruised her eyes briefly, followed by a flash of understanding. The latter inflamed him. Holden had always believed that he wore his indifference to mask a compassionate heart; somehow this child also suffered her delusion.

_Impudence._

"I'm afraid you'll have to accept my gratitude nonetheless," the girl said with a small smile, "because I would feel like a bad guest if I didn't express it."

"Do as you please," he replied indifferently, seething within.

"Oh, Sesshoumaru," Holden murmured behind him, quietly enough for the girl not to hear. The dark, sweet laughter in her voice warmed him through even as it rankled. He felt her amused eyes follow him as he fled her penetrating gaze, retreating gracefully from the room, ousted from his own study by two tiny human women who had the brazenness to assume they knew the inner workings of his mind.

----------------------------------------------------

"Miss Holden?" Kagome asked tentatively. She'd eaten well, considering how miserable she felt, but then again she hadn't had anything since before meeting Sesshoumaru in Inuyasha's shrine. Pleasantly full and as comfortable as she could be, considering her nasty cold and the fact that she was in the unfamiliar home of a former enemy, her now fully alert mind demanded more satisfaction.

"Just Holden, dear. What is it?" The little doctor looked up from her reading, delicate blonde eyebrows raised questioningly.

"The letters I got from Miroku and Sango end… abruptly… with Miroku telling me that Sesshoumaru would have access to Inuyasha's crypt. They were training half-demons as demon-slayers; I don't understand how they didn't encounter the Hand, or why they didn't tell me about… what happened to Sesshoumaru's family."

Holden nodded at her approvingly. "Smart girl. They did run up against the Hand, not long after they placed those letters in the remains of the well for you. The scrolls left for you all have a black smudge on them, did you notice?"

Kagome tried to picture the original scrolls in her head and vaguely remembered a black substance that seemed to be encrusted on the back of them. She nodded.

"Those smudges were made with Inuyasha's blood. Because he is tied to this time through you, his blood preserved the scrolls. Anything they would have left for you after using what blood he gave them was probably destroyed over the centuries."

Kagome felt a new wrench of grief, realizing anew that her friends were long dead. The little British lady turned her head away from Kagome's unhappiness respectfully and continued to speak, though directing her voice toward the fireplace.

"The Hand soon learned that interfering with the demon-slayers was not only a fool's move in itself, but tantamount to interfering with the Lord of the Western Lands. They attacked only once. None of them survived the encounter." Kagome nodded sharply at that, fiercely proud of her old friends and their abilities.

Holden smiled at her. "They were extremely happy, dear. When I met them, they were very old, but wise and healthy and energetic, and they remained so until the day they died. They had many children, and a number of half-demon children came to see them as their parents as well. I wish I could remember all of their names; I know Sesshoumaru does. I think, in the end, they had something like thirty grandchildren, and I'm certain I have never seen any two people more in love."

"And you intended for me to know that you met them," Kagome replied shrewdly. "Which means you're inviting me to ask."

Six, who had been lounging before the fire, quickly rose and glanced sharply at Holden, a question in his eyes. She raised her hand to quiet him, and he settled back down on the floor, concern evident on his face. Holden turned to look at Kagome gravely. Once again, Kagome noted the abrupt personality change.

"I'm telling you because there are things that you need to know. You need to know that I am much, much older than any human has a right to be. You need to know that I am intimately familiar with the Hand and their practices. You needed to be assured of your friends' fates. I will tell you that the Hand had a direct role in my curious situation, but beyond that, well, I simply have no wish to relive painful memories. Perhaps Six can enlighten you. You are entitled to anything he knows." She directed a piercing gaze at the person in question. "Though I will ask him to refrain from speculation." She nodded slightly towards them both and left the room. Six stared after her, visibly upset.

Six raised his hands to his silvery hair and ruffled it with agitation. Obviously uncomfortable, he glanced at Kagome, an apology on his lips.

"Don't worry about it," Kagome assured him, though her curiousity flared, unsatisfied. "It was rude of me to ask." He blew out his breath in a heavy, relieved sigh.

"I don't like going there," he admitted. "Some of the Hand's experiments hit a little close to home sometimes." His expression was candid and frank, and Kagome couldn't help but contrast his unaffected sincerity with Inuyasha's guardedness once more. He sighed again.

"I really should tell you, I guess. She made it pretty obvious that she wanted you to know."

"She shouldn't have left that for you to do," Kagome answered politely.

"It's a lot less painful for me than it is for her." He raked his fingers through his hair to smooth the mess he'd made earlier. "I have got to cut this mop off," he complained quietly, as if to himself. He rose, paced the floor in front of her for a few moments, and finally dropped to the ground in a defeated crouch.

"Have you ever thought about what demons outside Japan might be like?" he asked suddenly, big yellow eyes fixed determinedly on hers. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "They're stuff of legend, like kitsune or tanuki in Japan. But a lot of European demons have… peculiarities… that Japanese demons have no counterpart for."

Intrigued, she tilted her head to one side in an unspoken question.

"Tell me, what do centaurs and fauns and mermaids and satyrs and unicorns all have in common? There are others, of course, but those are probably the ones you'd be familiar with."

She frowned, thinking. Except for mermaids, all of the mythical beasts he had named had hooves and horns. She rolled it around in her head, trying to remember everything she'd ever heard about mermaids. Suddenly, she had it.

"Mermaids are supposed to capture sailors and..." she blushed. "There's only one sex in any of those. There aren't any male mermaids, nor any female satyrs, fauns, centaurs, or unicorns."

He looked relieved that she'd caught on so quickly. "Exactly. So how do you think they reproduce?" She blushed again, and he was wise enough to take her red face for an answer.

"They take _human_ mates. How attached they become to a mate varies race to race, some mate for life and others abduct their intended partner and kill them after the infant is born." He moved closer to her, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "The thing is, ace, no ordinary human woman can give birth to something with hooves or horns or fangs or claws. These children aren't half-demons like me or One or Inuyasha. They're full-blooded demons, and bearing such a child would tear a woman to pieces long before the actual birth. So these mythical creatures – which are just as real as kitsune or tanuki – impart a certain amount of their own power to the mother of their offspring."

Kagome blinked. "So, Dr. Holden is the mother of a demon child?" she ventured.

He shook his head, casting his great golden eyes downward to his hands. "No. The Hand has a long tradition of capturing such demons, and using them to make their female comrades more powerful."

"Using them?" Kagome asked carefully. She wasn't sure she wanted an answer.

"Rape, ace." Disgust twisted his mouth. "I warned you that some of this hit close to home," he reminded her ruefully. "Most demons that reproduce this way implant a kind of clone of themselves into a human mother. That process, and the Hand's exploitation of it, sparked the Hand's early interest in cloning."

"Rape," Kagome echoed softly, shocked.

"The demons don't have long to regret their situation," he continued. His voice settled harshly on her ears, like gravel grating against itself underfoot. "Some races, unicorns and fauns particularly, die after implantation. They mate for life, and when they choose to produce a child, they know it means their death. Consequently, their mates tend to be among the most powerful of the Mothers; they have to be in order to protect their children in the absence of their mate." His nostrils flared angrily, and the skin on his face stretched tightly over his bones. Little white fangs flashed in the firelight, and for the first time, Kagome saw something of Inuyasha in the half-demon before her. Six was evidently just as capable of rage as his progenitor.

"Ana mated with a faun. He died, and the Hand killed the baby."

"How terrible," Kagome breathed. She gathered her knees to her chest, hugging them to herself, trying to ward off the sadness in Six's voice. But it pressed in around her; it breathed down her back and wrapped itself around her body, chilling her despite the fragrant fire that danced nearby. "Poor Dr. Holden."

"She had been a member of the Hand, up until that point," he continued tightly. "I believe she volunteered to become a Mother, to enhance her physical powers, but when her superiors ordered her to kill her child, she refused. They killed the baby, and then they tried to kill her. As I said though, Mothers of fauns and unicorns are particularly powerful, they failed. She later tried to kill herself and when she could not, she decided she must still have some matter to attend to. She tracked down Sesshoumaru to warn him about the Hand's interest in Inuyasha, hoping that in saving the one, she could in some way atone for losing the other. As I understand it, they've been together ever since, joined by their hatred of the Hand."

Kagome stared at her hands, wondering how much hatred it took to justify raping someone for the abilities their body could give you. She couldn't fathom it. She tried instead to understand the change of heart that an infant could induce, how difficult it must have been for Holden to realize that she desired, that she _loved_ the child she had acquired so ruthlessly. How agonizing it must be, to finally let go of your hatred, only to have your former comrades take away that which you had so recently come to cherish. Tears stung Kagome's eyes, and she immediately berated herself for her lack of vision. Her loss was nothing at all compared to Sesshoumaru's five hundred year quest for Aikomi's soul and for vengeance, or to the loss of Holden's epiphany-child. Inuyasha was out there, somewhere, not lost to her forever. The two strange individuals were even now devising his rescue. Though she had been fearful and skeptical of her hosts, it was rapidly becoming clear to her that saving Inuyasha had become a kind of salvation for the grief-stricken parents, a penance of sorts. Sesshoumaru's need for redemption had led him to accept the company of a human woman who had once been counted among his enemies, and two manmade constructs that resembled a brother he had resented for so long. Holden's had kept her beside the demon lord for the last few centuries, though she was sworn before God to kill beings like him.

"How terrible," Kagome repeated, shaking her head to clear it of such weighty thoughts. Her eyes leaked tears, and the pressure behind her eyes made her nose start to run. "Damn," she cursed in frustration. She searched for a tissue; Six produce a handkerchief from a pocket.

"Don't cry, ace," he said awkwardly. "I can't stand to see a woman cry."

"I can't help it," she complained, wiping furiously at her face. "Naraku was easy, he was one person to hate, one evil presence. How do you fight a whole culture of hatred?" she demanded. "People who steal the powers another's death can grant them, who murder children and innocents, clones and enemies-turned-friends, five hundred year grudges and griefs – I just can't take anymore!" How many more tears could she have? Between crying for Inuyasha, crying for Aikomi, crying for Sesshoumaru and Holden, she seemed to have become a sniffly, feverish fountain of saltwater in the past two days.

She could feel Six's worried eyes on her. After a moment, a gentle hand settled on her shoulder. Looking up through her tears, she saw him smile, a sad, rueful kind of smile, to be sure, but a smile nonetheless.

"It'll be okay, ace. Don't worry about Inuyasha, and don't worry about the rest of us either. They're pretty damned powerful, Sesshoumaru and Ana. They've been strong enough to deal with their grief all this time, so don't you go getting all twisted up over it. All you need to worry about is feeling better, and being ready when they find Inuyasha. You'd hate for him to see you sick and red-eyed after six years, wouldn't you?" He touched her wet cheek with a knuckle, and the sadness slipped from his smile, leaving only his charming, lopsided grin.

"You're much prettier when you smile," he informed her winningly. His efforts awarded him a half-hearted attempt at a smile; he really was just too sweet to argue with. Kagome sighed and rubbed at her eyes, drying them on her sleeves.

"I don't mean to be such a cry-baby," she apologized, clearing her throat and sniffling a bit. "It's just so much to take, all at once. And it feels like I'm not doing anything to find Inuyasha, just playing catch-up on what's been happening while he's been asleep. I need to be doing something!"

"Ana and Sesshoumaru are doing something. Your job is just to hang in there and be patient until they've figured out the best way to get him back. Trust them, Kagome; there aren't many who could claim to be as skilled or experienced at fighting the Hand." He crouched at her feet.

"Something's going to happen soon, though, right? I'm not sure how much waiting I can stand," she admitted, anxiously searching his face for an answer. His smile glowed reassuringly.

"I'm sure it will."


	7. Invasion

Sigh. Nope. Still Rumiko Takahashi's.

The next three days passed uneventfully. Sesshoumaru seemed to have acclimated himself to Kagome's presence. He behaved much as he had in the past; he largely ignored her. Though she could occasionally feel his eyes on her, she never caught him in the act of looking, and he rarely addressed her aloud. She felt oddly grateful for his indifference to her. It was familiar and comfortable, and the brief, awkward closeness of Inuyasha's crypt and the demon's own study quickly faded.

After Six had revealed some of Holden's secrets, she too adjusted to the stranger in Blackbourne Manor, insisting that Kagome call her by the same name Six and One had adopted. She never mentioned her past, and Kagome never asked her about it. Again and again Kagome noted the quick-changes Holden – now Ana – made in her manner and character from time to time, and the recognition caused her to be a little off-balance around the much older woman. Sesshoumaru she could generally trust to be cold and unapproachable, but Ana slid in and out of different personas as easily as Kagome changed clothing. She had assumed the role of a tolerant professor or perhaps a distant relative with Kagome, friendly without being particularly intimate, gracious without being personal. Then again, she intermittently became the no-nonsense professional that had first greeted Kagome when she'd awakened in the white room. On the other hand, One obviously looked up to her as a parental figure, and Kagome had seen her hoist the child up in her arms with exuberance to match any loving mother. With Six, she was rather like a bossy older sister, affectionate, but a little overbearing.

And then there was Sesshoumaru. Kagome couldn't really put a name to the relationship Ana had with the demon lord. Beyond their obvious familiarity with one another, Kagome found no indication that they were lovers, but whatever they had far exceeded the bounds of friendship. Always in his presence, Ana seemed on the verge of a smile, an indulgent, benevolent smile. She had some gentle, subtle authority over him, though the only visible instruments of her power were her eyes, which sparkled at him with scarcely suppressed mirth. He listened to her and accorded her the esteem due a respected colleague. He endured her gentle teasing; of course, he never responded in kind. He even occasionally consumed the meals she prepared, though Sango had pointed out long ago that powerful demons did not require human sustenance. It was too complicated to puzzle over, and Kagome did not trouble herself about it for long.

One and Six had completely won her heart. One's too-grown-up comments and endless energy kept her laughing and out of breath. Six had disappeared for a few hours on the second day of her stay in Blackbourne Manor, and when he reappeared, his silver hair fell in neat layers close to his head, classically short and perfectly cut. Between that and his expressive, frank eyes, he so little resembled Inuyasha anymore that Kagome occasionally forgot that he was the half-demon's clone. With his warmth and charm, he seemed another person entirely.

Even in her short stay, he was fast becoming a trusted friend to her, someone she could confess her fears to, someone who wouldn't judge her or expose her before Sesshoumaru's coldness or Ana's unknown true character. When it was all too much, he found the tissue and patted her back or held her hand, always maintaining an appropriate distance, but always nearby. When she was giggly over One's antics, he laughed with her and teased her, but his jibes were never tainted with flirtation. She hadn't had a true guy-friend before; Miroku had been simply too perverted to be trusted and both Hojo and Kouga had wanted more than friendship from her. But nothing in Six's manner ever hinted of attraction. She was grateful for that careful sensitivity, as well as for his unshakable faith in Sesshoumaru and Ana.

The fifth morning of her stay in Blackbourne Manor, Kagome sensed a tenseness in the atmosphere that had not been present before. Perhaps it had been the months of constant danger in the feudal era that had so sharpened her intuition, or perhaps it was only her worry for Inuyasha that alerted her to the subtle differences. Sesshoumaru rarely approached her, but on this particular morning, she didn't see him at all. At breakfast, Ana's hospitality and good cooking were as impeccable as always, and though One devoured her biscuits and eggs oblivious to anything but the plate before him, Kagome sensed tenseness in both Six and Ana. He jabbered excitedly about his dreams, throwing out occasional phrases in broken – but perfectly accented – German. Ana smiled and nodded at him, but she seemed just slightly distracted, and she took only a few bites before clearing her place. Kagome caught Six watching the British lady with anxious eyes over his coffee cup; the doctor resolutely avoided looking at him and disappeared with a murmured good morning.

Six politely, but firmly, declined to explain himself afterward. After finishing his breakfast, he located a five thousand piece jigsaw puzzle and asked Kagome to look after One "for a bit." He dumped the puzzle on the floor of Sesshoumaru's study, and then he too disappeared.

"Where is everyone this morning?" One demanded irritably. "This thing could take hours with just the two of us." He viciously tore into the mess on the floor, searching out edge pieces with surprising speed and accuracy.

"I'm not sure," Kagome admitted, trying not to sound worried. She failed; One's sharp ears caught the fear and uncertainty in her voice.

"Is everything okay, do you think?" he asked, repeatedly turning a corner piece in his small, clawed hands.

"Oh, sure," she answered brightly, hoping his confidence in the three surpassed her own. "Do you really think there could be anything wrong that Sesshoumaru couldn't handle?" He shook his head, relaxing.

"Nope." That minor detail taken care of, he renewed his assault on the puzzle, assembling the outer edge in a matter of minutes. Kagome pitched in a little, but she had never been particularly good with jigsaws, and her distraction only increased her deficiency.

"You're slow," One crowed, having filled in a good quarter of the puzzle. Her half-hearted attempts looked especially pathetic next to the deft, clawed fingers that continually added new pieces to the picture taking shape on the floor.

"That's not nice, One. You could really hurt someone's feelings saying things like that." she scolded somewhat absently, automatically, her mind elsewhere. _What are they doing? And why won't they _tell_ me what they're doing?_

Suddenly she was face-to-face with One, his little round face popping up directly in front of her own. She jerked back, startled. Golden eyes searched hers frantically. His breath came and went unevenly, agitated, as if he were attempting to fight off tears.

"Did I hurt you?" he demanded, obviously upset. _Did I hurt you?_ He'd asked that before, when they had first met. Surprised, she didn't answer immediately. He must have taken her startled silence as an affirmation, because a few tears leaked out from the inside corners of his eyes, down the side of his pert nose and along the rounded edge of his cheek.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!" he wailed, throwing himself into her arms, crying. "Please don't leave me!"

"One!" She pressed him tightly to her. Murmuring assurances, she kept one arm tightly wound about him and stroked his back and hair with her free hand. What in the world had she done to trigger this?

After a few minutes, when his tears had subsided, she picked him up and carried him to one of the chairs near the hearth – where, she had noticed, no fire burned today. Fairly certain that she had convinced him that she was neither hurt nor upset with him, and that she had no intention of leaving him, she asked for an explanation.

"I just don't want to hurt you," he answered, not looking at her. Though he remained seated in her lap, now that the fear was gone, he was ashamed of his tears.

"That's not all," Kagome chided. "You thought I might leave you."

"You wouldn't," he replied, but his voice was unsteady.

"No, I wouldn't," she told him firmly. "Not ever. But you thought I would."

He swallowed. Still he wouldn't look at her. "Seven said I hurt the Hand. I was a… a liability, like Three and Four were, and that because we hurt the Hand, we didn't deserve to live. I thought he was my friend, but when the Hand told him I hurt it, he hit me and clawed at me and he didn't stop until Six came and made him. That's when we left the desert and went to the mountains." He finally met her gaze, and Kagome's heart ached to see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. He began to cry again.

"I didn't _mean_ to hurt it!" he sobbed. "I don't even know what I did!"

His explanation was garbled, but it was plain enough what had happened. Deep within Kagome's belly an old fire started to burn, an anger she hadn't felt since her time in the feudal era. She'd witnessed a number of atrocities there, but only the most terrible, the most personal had elicited this kind of response in her. Manten wearing the pelt of Shippo's father. Kohaku forced to turn on those who would have helped him. Sesshoumaru deriding his half-blood brother. All this time, One had believed that he had been responsible for the Hand's decision to kill him. That he had done something to warrant the abandonment of his "friend" and the death sentence that had been laid down on him. Her gut seethed and twisted within her. Six hadn't told her that Seven had been personally responsible for carrying out the Hand's decision to destroy their fist clone.

"Stop crying," Kagome said suddenly, sternly. He jerked his face up to hers in surprise.

"You didn't do anything," she continued, keeping pity out of her voice. "Seven and the Hand were wrong, not you." He sniffed, but seemed to be trying to obey her.

"Sesshu and Six don't think I know what I am, Kagome. But I do. Seven told me. I know I'm just a copy of somebody else. He said I wasn't a real person, because the Hand made me, not God. I was supposed to be a weapon for the Hand, and instead I hurt it somehow, and they decided to kill me." His eyes begged her to deny what he'd been told.

Kagome shook her head adamantly, wondering at the garbled logic of the infamous Seven and the three-year-old who had labored under the lunatic's confused understanding of reality. "Seven is insane. You are definitely not 'just a copy.'" Taking his small chin between her fingers, she brought his face so close to her own that their noses nearly touched, and their eyes were a scant inch apart.

"How you got into this world doesn't mean a damned thing, One. Not a damned thing. Human or demon or half-demon or clone or anything else out there that can think and feel, it doesn't matter how our lives come to be. What matters is what we do with the life we have. Don't ever think your life is worth less than that of anybody else just because you were formed in a laboratory instead of a womb. Anybody who would tell you that is a liar or a fool, and you'd be a fool to believe them. Promise me you won't, One. Promise me!" Surprised at her own vehemence, she released the child and sat slowly back in the chair, though she kept her eyes locked on his until he nodded, shocked into numbness and silence by her outburst. Well, she thought, rueful but satisfied, _I may never have managed to teach Inuyasha that lesson, but I doubt poor One will ever forget it_.

She gathered him tightly into her arms. She would not permit this child to suffer under the same inferiority complex Inuyasha had. She would be damned if any one was going to fill his head with nonsense about worthless half-demons or soulless clones while she drew breath.

"What's more, the people that matter don't leave even when you do hurt them, One. And they certainly don't try to kill you for doing it. The Hand is twisted. Seven is twisted. Six and Sesshoumaru and Ana, they won't leave you. Neither will I."

"How utterly cloying."

Kagome stood so fast she knocked One into the floor. The fear in the child's face identified the speaker before she even turned around. When she did, though already expecting the worst, she gasped anyhow. The person who could only be Seven stood in the doorway to Sesshoumaru's study, bedecked in Inuyasha's clothing, but wearing an expression more akin to Naraku's malicious half-smiles.

"It's been awhile, One. Did you miss me?" The evil smile widened, baring a pair of shiny white fangs. One shrank back behind Kagome; she quickly stepped in front of him.

"I didn't really come for you, child," he continued in an off-hand, uncaring sort of tone. "I'll leave you to other hands." At that, six armed men in black body armor emerged from somewhere behind him. Two of them caught hold of Kagome while the others advanced on One, who took off racing about the study, dodging the other four, giving Seven as wide a berth as possible.

"Run, One!" Kagome shrieked. But though he paused briefly before the window and the freedom beyond, he looked back at her, and hesitated a moment too long. One of the black figures managed to land a glancing blow across the back of his head and grabbed a handful of his long silver hair, trapping him. The others were upon him almost instantaneously. One struggled wildly, swiping his claws furiously at his attackers, but to no avail. One of them pulled a hypodermic needle from his belt and plunged it deeply into One's side.

One struggled for a moment or two longer, and then he collapsed.

"One!" Kagome had not been silent during the assault, but neither Ana nor Sesshoumaru nor Six answered her cries. Try as she might, she could not break the hold of her assailants.

"He's not dead. Not yet," Seven drawled from the doorway. Sauntering up to her, his horrible smile broadened into something unspeakable. A terrible light glowed in his eyes, a fanatic's fervor. He raised his hand to trace a path along her cheek with the claw of his index finger.

"Now, wench. I have a use for you."


	8. Judgment

Thanks for the reviews, everybody! I was really pleased with the way this chapter came out, and I hope you like it. Once again, Inuyasha and crew don't belong to me.

"She's going to be upset about this," Six predicted unhappily. Sesshoumaru sighed inwardly; Six had a number of good qualities. Compassion, however, did not number among Sesshoumaru's greater strengths, and he had little patience for those who wasted their time with it. At least Inuyasha pretended not to care. He remembered Inuyasha's repeated, futile attempts to conceal his concern for the Higurashi woman. A muscle on the left side of his face threatened to raise the corner of his mouth; he fought it down with practiced ease.

He cast a sideways glance at his brother's clone – a man who, for all his silly concerns and gushy charm, seemed more a brother than his progenitor ever had been. That was his own fault, of course, he had allowed Six access to himself in ways he had never permitted Inuyasha. He nearly scowled at the thought. It irritated him that after five hundred years of protecting a brother who likely wouldn't possess the presence of mind to thank him for his trouble, he still shrank away from the guilty tremors at his spine. It didn't matter anyway. He had the girl; soon Inuyasha would be awakened, and if the half-blood brat chose not to continue their association, at least he would have the satisfaction of having been the better man. And if he did wish to stick around… well, Sesshoumaru found the possibilities that lay in that direction even more appealing.

Holden was speaking, using her clinical, hide-all voice. The one she used when she didn't want her real opinions known.

"Expediency, my dear. It is simply easier to tell her that the Hand made an attempt to abduct her family and failed than it would have been to tell her the Hand was preparing to strike against them. This way, she doesn't have to worry," she said encouragingly. That was an act; she'd wanted to tell the girl from the beginning, as Six had. But it pleased him that she had abided by his decision, and even now defended it.

"Well, they're safe now, at any rate," Six agreed reluctantly. "But I still think it was dishonest."

Really, at times it was obvious that the clone was only a little over two years old. Perhaps Six's simple grasp of right and wrong was part of why Sesshoumaru found him so engaging. Rin had been like that, childlike in her understanding of complex concepts. Or maybe, he thought to himself ruefully, maybe he just overcomplicated things that should have been simple. Like taking responsibility for one's younger siblings. It was an interesting line of thought, though embarrassingly introspective, and he might have continued it if it hadn't been for the scent he detected as the Lamborghini approached Blackbourne Estate.

He didn't wait for the car to stop. Throwing open the door, to the surprise of his companions, he flung himself out and landed lightly on the pavement. A single step was all it took to propel him through the front gates, another to the door, and two more – he'd had to turn a corner – brought him to his ruined study. One lay crumpled near the window.

He gathered up the child in his good arm, for the first time resenting his missing appendage. One didn't seem especially wounded, but he did not wake, and his breath came in slow, ragged gasps.

"One!" Six burst through the heavy doors, knocking one off of its hinges.

"Sweet Jesus," Holden gasped. A graceful, arcing leap landed her immediately beside Sesshoumaru. Her quick little hands began to scan One's body, seeking out first a heartbeat, then searching for whatever damage lay beneath his jeans and polo.

Six knelt beside them and let loose a string of curses that would have done his progenitor proud.

Sesshoumaru said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak; anything he said was likely to emerge as an animal howl of anger, and in any case he was preoccupied with fighting back the primitive creature that had risen within him. His fangs pushed oddly through his gums as they lengthened and retracted with his failures and successes against the beast, and his eyes burned as his blood stained them red. He set off a piece of his consciousness to listen to Holden and Six discuss their situation, and continued his struggle with his true self. He could not afford to be enraged. He had to be able to think.

"A trap," Six snarled. "A fucking trap."

Holden nodded grimly, still running her white hands over One's body. "Two fronts, dammit. They hit us on two fronts."

"Who the hell was on duty?" Six demanded furiously. "Who let this fucking happen? Where the hell is everybody?"

"Zhang Hai was in charge of security."

"He's dead," Sesshoumaru said, finally having beaten down his "other" side. "I can smell it. The whole place reeks of death." Six flushed; in his concern for One, he had failed to pick up on the other scents that pervaded Blackbourne Estate and the manor house. Inuyasha would not have been caught off-guard so, but then, Six was still so very young.

"See who you can find still alive, Six. Bring them to the infirmary."

The clone looked like he was about to argue, but evidently thought better of it, and headed purposefully from the room.

"Sesshoumaru." Holden's voice was very quiet. He turned his eyes to her.

"Sesshoumaru… it's Judgment."

He frowned. "The Hand knows we have the antigen. Why would they attack with such a weapon?"

"I'm betting that it's been modified," Holden answered bitterly. "And if they took the trouble to fucking modify the virus, it's entirely possible they've come up with a way to make the damn thing contagious."

He didn't answer, but looked down at One's small form resting on his arm.

Contagious. Fuck.

Holden's fears were borne out in the infirmary. Her small, but well-equipped laboratory confirmed that both Six and Sesshoumaru were both infected, and Six hadn't even touched One. Not only had the Hand developed a way to make Judgment contagious and resistant to the old antigen, but they had also modified it to be passed through the air, at least after it hit the bloodstream.

"This won't be like last time, Sesshoumaru, with poisoned weapons striking individual targets. This could start an epidemic, and as virulent as it appears to be, half or more of the world's demon population could be wiped out in a month."

Six hadn't found anyone alive. However their defenses had been breached, the maneuver had been absolutely perfect. Thirty-four staff members and eighteen security people were dead, and the Hand now possessed a weapon even Sesshoumaru couldn't fight. In a half-day's time, One's respiratory system had been seriously compromised. Even though One was small and young, he was also half-human, and his human blood was protecting him somewhat. Six would fare better than One, or Sesshoumaru himself. And as Sesshoumaru had been infected with the virus once before, he could easily recognize the rasp in his chest that signified the onset of Judgment.

He had faced death before, at the hands of his own brother. He had felt its cold breath in his face when Tetsusaiga's power had rushed over him at that time; Tensaiga's rescue had been wholly unexpected. He could remember feeling slightly pleased before the wave of Tetsusaiga's wrath had overtaken him, pleased that he would die with no regrets. No unwelcome faces intruded themselves on his supposed last thoughts, no unfinished business – except perhaps that Naraku fellow, and he was positive Inuyasha would deal with that bastard in his own time. All in all, he had been content with his life.

He found the experience much more disconcerting the second time around. Within three hours, Sesshoumaru had succumbed to Judgment's ire. Even in these fevered half-dreams and memories, Sesshoumaru could recognize that he had been outsmarted, and the reality of it throbbed painfully in his breast. Inuyasha and Aikomi remained hapless victims of his hated enemies. The girl he had implicitly agreed to protect had been captured, stolen from his own home, from his own study study, no less. Now she would either betray her old love in exchange for her life, or die for her silence. Either way Inuyasha would die; his life was inextricably bound to hers so long as he remained sealed. If she died, so would he. Sesshoumaru's mind shied away from that prospect.

Rin had desired a reconciling between himself and his half-brother, particularly after his generous and probably hard-won gift of the fire rat pelt, a gift that even now protected her daughter. Somewhere in his soul, vengeance for Rin had become tied up with Inuyasha's survival and eventual awakening, a final homage to his deceased wife and her innocent wish for peace between brothers. Now he was dying, outmaneuvered by the descendents of her murderers, and every vow he had made to himself in the past five hundred years would remain unfulfilled. Allowing Inuyasha to die, leaving his only child trapped in Purgatory, such things constituted an unadulterated betrayal of his beloved wife.

And then there was Holden. Holden-Truelove. Ana. She knew his regard for her, though he had never addressed the issue, just as she had never openly acknowledged her feelings for him. There had been an unspoken agreement between them for centuries now, the promise of 'after.' After he could lay his ghost of Rin to rest, after Inuyasha and Aikomi had been revived. After both of their penances had been paid. She had been his salvation in the wake of Rin's death; even at his most proud he could not deny what he had become before she brought sanity back with news of the Hand's interest in Inuyasha. She had given him a purpose, forced him to think, to stare his pain in the face and push his way past it, to move beyond the mindless predatory instincts that had driven him for so long. Even more importantly, she had opened up her own pain to him, and they had forged a bond of shared purpose. She had not left him, and he had discovered that he was not alone in his loss. And so the emptiness of his grief had no longer seemed so vast now that another shared it.

"_Ridiculous."_

"_I didn't choose my name, Sesshoumaru."_

"_Even so, it is a ludicrous appellation." He paused. Curiously, "Is it customary for humans from your country to carry two names?"_

"_It isn't uncommon." There was an odd note in her voice. He didn't recognize it. Never one to intrude, he kept his silence. Before very long, she condescended to explain._

"_Holden was my maiden name. My father was one of the founding members of the Children of the Left Hand of God. When I was ten, he married me to another of the founders, Roland Truelove."_

_Ten? An involuntary growl rose in Sesshoumaru's throat; he forced it down to an almost inaudible grunt. It wasn't that he felt especially close to the woman, they'd only been traveling together for a few months, but since Aikomi's death, the abuse of children had become a sore point with him._

_She, with her Guardian's senses, heard his disapproval and smiled ruefully at him. "It was an unpleasant marriage, made to seal an alliance between Roland and my father. The Hand was run by committee at the time. My father and Roland were a bit more radical than most of the others on the Council. They were the ones who introduced the notion of pseudo-Guardians."_

_Sesshoumaru said nothing, but gazed steadily at her. She flushed._

"_Yes, Sesshoumaru," she replied to his unspoken observation. "Like me." _

_Her face clouded over like that of a forlorn child, but in her eyes a much more sophisticated pain shone. "Roland firmly believed in the idea that sparing the rod spoiled the child, even if that child was one's wife."_

"_He beat you." It was not a question._

"_Incessantly. I agreed to become a pseudo-Guardian for the sole purpose of escaping him, of being strong enough to keep him away from me. I wish I could say that I didn't take my duties seriously, but it would be an untruth. Roland was an evil man, but many of the Hand were my dear friends, good people… misguided, not evil, and I followed their folly with enthusiasm."_

_Sesshoumaru looked away. They all deserved to die. Misguided murderers were still murderers. Sometimes he even felt like Holden ought to have died that night in the woods. She had been one of them. She had done terrible things, by her own admission. Somewhere deep in his soul, Aikomi's voice mocked him. "Haven't you?" He attempted to push it back._

"_So you raped a demon. I'm curious as to how you accomplished that." It was a cruel kind of question, but the needling voice in his head that questioned his own prior deeds refused to be silenced. Perhaps the truth of her cruelties could alleviate his own guilt. It was selfish, and he knew it even as he spoke._

"_He was married." She was quiet for a moment, and Sesshoumaru saw tears well in her eyes. "We held his wife hostage, you see. Fauns and unicorns are among those demons that die when they procreate; so they often wait for years to produce a child with the human woman they have chosen, and in the meantime live very happily with the future mother of their child. A few lashes across her back was all it took for him to give me his body and his life. I think they killed the woman after. I don't know."_

_Sesshoumaru prided himself on his steady character, his ability to retain his composure in any situation. His father's unflappability and poise had been legendary in his own day, and Sesshoumaru had mimicked his father's stoicism for as long as he could remember. But her confession nauseated him. He found he could not look at her._

"_I hated the thing living inside of me. As it grew, the sight of myself turned my stomach. I felt sullied and dirtied that the temple of God housed the spawn of a raped demon, though I cannot remember feeling guilty for having taken the faun's life for his power."_

_Still he couldn't look at her. He'd known all of this, it had been tacitly implied, but never before had she spoken of her experience so directly._

"_Then he was born." A softness entered her voice, a fathomless sadness that he recognized from his own soul, and his unwilling eyes were drawn to her. "I raised my knife to kill the demon spawn – I had specifically asked to be allowed to kill it myself – and found I could not. He wasn't terrible. He wasn't a monster or a devil. Only a baby, hungry and frightened and crying for his mother." _

_She closed her eyes. "God, he was so beautiful." For a moment Sesshoumaru was surprised; even having left the Hand, Holden had remained devout in her religion, and she never used words like 'God' thoughtlessly. _

_Then he realized she was praying, spilling out her grief to a god he knew little of, save that a number of his followers had deemed the spilling of innocent blood a righteous act. Holden had tried to explain that her god's intentions had been badly misinterpreted, but he had made it clear to her then that he wanted neither sermons nor excuses. She claimed her god was all-powerful. That he loved the innocent and the righteous. _

_Sesshoumaru failed to understand her faith; the god she so adored had allowed her son to be killed, had allowed her family to abuse and corrupt her, had failed to prevent the misunderstanding of his desires. For Sesshoumaru, these truths implied that Holden's god was not the benevolent deity she believed he was, that he was impotent, or that he simply did not exist at all. _

_He pointed this out to her. She had instructed him, sharply, to concern himself with his own affairs. _

_Angry, he retorted that he had promised her security, and unlike her god, he had made good on his word. He gave her hope of redemption by allowing her to join him in his quest to protect his half-blood brother. He fought alongside her in battle, he protected and sheltered her. He understood her pain. Her god had done nothing for her to deserve her love and devotion, while he, Sesshoumaru… and there he stopped. And what he had not said then remained unsaid still._

And he was going to die without having told Holden anything at all.


	9. Goliath

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post! My life has been crazy -- I'm graduating with my bachelor's in just a month, and I've been really bogged down this semester. It may be awhile before my next post too, but in the meantime, enjoy! As always, please let me know what you think. And, as always, Inuyasha and crew don't belong to me

Kagome felt certain that she would never be able to feel safe alone in the dark again. Something occupied the darkness with her, something enormous and vaguely threatening, something that never spoke, never approached her, never identified itself in any way. She smelled blood, heard the breathing of the other… thing… in the dark. But aside from her conviction that she was not alone, the darkness denied her any distraction from her pain, from the throbbing in her dislocated shoulder, from the ache of bruised and beaten flesh. The beatings themselves were far preferable to their aftermath in the darkness; each new injury distracted her from the agony of those that preceded it. But here, nothing interrupted the pain.

Yes, the laboratory was much better than this dark, terrible place. Inuyasha was there, even though she couldn't touch him or speak to him, he was there, lying in white hospital garments on a pristine white examination table. Still. Silent. But right there. Not ten feet away.

She didn't know where he was in relation to the dark place.

But she did know that somewhere off to her left, the massive presence in the darkness waited quietly for some unknown purpose. So each time they threw her into the black holding room, she backed into the wall furthest away from it, and stayed as still as possible, wondering, terrified, if it could see better than she could. There she waited, hunched up against a cold stone wall, for her abductors to take her back to Inuyasha, to demand his revival, to beat her when she refused to wake him.

If Seven hadn't been such a braggart, she and Inuyasha probably both would have been dead by now. But like most inconsequential people striving for notice, Seven was arrogant and boastful, and had immediately revealed the Hand's strategy to destroy Inuyasha without the half-demon ever posing a threat to them.

_"There, you see? That's Judgment, little girl. God's own vengeance." He lovingly caressed the syringe that hovered above Inuyasha's table, poised to strike at his unprotected chest. "That's the preferred way, of course, slow, painful, debilitating. But just to keep it interesting, we gave your old boyfriend a collar." Seven's smile was chilling; it reminded Kagome of Naraku's careless, contemptuous face. _

_His horrible smile broadened as he gestured toward the steel encircling Inuyasha's neck. "If he somehow managed to evade Judgment, that collar will explode. Any attempt to interfere with the syringe or the collar will cause the collar to blow. Unfortunately, so long as he is sealed, the explosion won't affect him, but it has a blast radius of ten yards, enough to kill anyone caught tampering." _

_Kagome wasn't stupid. Seven had released her after bringing her to the laboratory, giving her freedom enough to allow her to see Inuyasha's body, strapped to its white table. For several minutes, he'd left her slumped against the laboratory wall, trusting to his own presence to cow her into submission. She pushed herself off the white tile, past him, and lunged for the collar. If she could force the explosion, the syringe with its deadly serum would be destroyed, and she had every faith in Inuyasha's ability to free himself from his captors. Especially if she managed to bring Seven down with her. _

_She didn't get the chance. Seven caught her easily and grinned even more broadly. "Did you think dying would free him? I suppose I forgot to mention that his seal binds his life to yours. The monk should have told you that. If you die, Kagome Higurashi, the half-blood monster dies with you. Protect him and die, or give him up and live. Either way, he dies. Thus the will of God and the Hand is accomplished."_

_He twisted her around to look at her, his golden eyes burning with a terrible intensity. "You don't have to die, you know. Honestly, I'd rather not have to kill you. I've got a few too many of his memories locked up inside of me to be entirely comfortable letting you get too far away from me. Just wake him up. And let him go." Pressing his mouth to her lips, he kissed her, roughly, brutally. His fangs drew blood, his tongue threatened to choke her._

_She bit the offensive organ, earning for herself the first blow in what proved to be a long series of assaults: a backhanded slap that sent her sprawling across the floor, until she came to a halt halfway beneath Inuyasha's table. Above her, one clawed foot dangled limply, uselessly. Funny. His feet had never seemed especially fragile before. _

_"Just command him to wake, and you can leave. All of this can be a bad dream," Seven purred to her, offering a hand to help her rise._

_She spit in his face. And her first beating began in earnest._

So now she lay shivering in the holding room, shaking with pain and fear. She didn't know how much time had passed since Seven had invaded Blackbourne Estate. It could have been a few hours or a few days. Time passed strangely in the darkness.

"There is a light in here, girl. If you had the guts to go looking for it." A rumbling voice shocked her; she curled up, covering her head and ears futilely with her hands, realizing belatedly that shifting her dislocated shoulder was a bad idea.

"Grow up, little girl. I'd like nothing better than to strip away what's left of your clothes and show you what I think of a woman who's afraid of the dark." A mirthless chuckle followed the comment, landing dully on the stone walls, but reverberating deeply in Kagome's chest.

"I would give you a reason to be afraid," the voice continued musingly. "If I could, I would have done it already." More humorless laughter.

"Who…" Kagome licked her parched lips and tried again. "Who are you?" she demanded, hating the fearful whisper that framed her question.

"Goliath," the presence answered candidly. A sudden metallic clamor sent Kagome's heart into her throat, and she threw her good arm upward along the wall, struggling to rise. Frantically she searched the wall near the door for a switch. Upon finding it, she hesitated a moment before throwing it, afraid of what might be before her. Gritting her teeth, she reminded herself that the other presence hadn't harmed her yet, though it evidently desired to, and reasoned that it must be inhibited from doing so. She flipped the light on.

"Sweet gods," she whispered, collapsing to her knees.

The room was entirely lined with stone, like a dungeon, complete with chains and manacles. Across from her, some twenty feet away, the menacing creature glowered, fettered to the wall by long chain restraints. It was enormous, but its size mattered less to Kagome than the state in which she found it. Its blood pooled about its body, dripping in ruby rivulets down its arms and legs into shining red puddles. Massive hands and feet lay limply in the pools of blood, apparently rendered useless by a brutally clever trap. Each of its arms and legs were impaled with slender bladed panels. Like a two-edged sword, but lacking a point, the panels had been forced through the dual bone structures of the forearms and calves, neatly dividing the limbs lengthwise. The end of each panel was fastened with a lock to a short chain, which in turn was attached to a weighted ball.

It was a perfect prison. Sliding the bladed panels down would cut the creature's feet and hands in half, ruining them irreparably, but the heavy iron balls ensured that the panels could not be withdrawn the other way either. Captivated, sickened, and horrified by the display, Kagome gaped for several minutes before realizing that the creature being subjected to the horror was, in fact, another of Inuyasha's clones.

Though he was seated, the crown of his silver head remained several inches above Kagome's own, and one of his hands probably could have wound about her waist with room to spare. Something primitive lingered about his features, as though his face were a stone effigy of the real Inuyasha. But his eyes were strikingly familiar. "Are you Two?" Kagome asked, terrified.

A terrible anger clouded his face. "Two is Hannibal now, if he's still alive."

"Hannibal… after the Punic general?" Kagome asked, images of Carthaginian tophets briefly flashing in her mind and stirring a bit of her student's inquisitiveness.

The giant's face softened a little, his countenance shifting from anger to a surprising fierce concern. "Because he's smart." He was silent for a moment, and Kagome found herself somewhat less frightened than before. Whatever he thought of her, he obviously felt concern for the other clone. He wasn't an unfeeling monster. Of course, she remembered suddenly, Hiten had cared about his brother too, and he'd have killed her in an instant.

"They'll kill him. He won't tell them what they want to know, and they'll kill him." The giant who called himself Goliath wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were hooded, face downcast in an icy, silent, helpless anger.

Inuyasha had looked like that a number of times.

Kagome watched him carefully for several minutes. He frightened her, but his horrible position roused her pity. Like her, someone he cared about was being misused by the Hand, and he was absolutely powerless to stop them. She made a decision. "What do they want to know?" Kagome asked, staring at the floor, hoping she was doing the right thing.

"He blew up six of their bases. They want to know how he managed to hack into the security system, so it won't happen again. But he won't tell them. He knows even if he did they'd kill him, so there's no point."

"Could you save him?"

The big silver head snapped up. Kagome heard rather than saw it, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the stone floor.

"If you could get out of… that… could you save him?" Golden eyes bored into her. She shivered.

"I can't get out." His words lacked conviction.

"But if you could. Would you be able to walk…?" She wrapped her relatively uninjured arm around her stomach, still refusing to look at the creature across the room. "Could you save him?"

Goliath continued to stare. "Yes," he said finally. "They didn't really damage anything."

Kagome nodded nervously. Still she wouldn't look, afraid of the intensity she could feel in the other's gaze. Sliding her hand up her tattered shirt, she reached for her bra. It was pale blue, satiny, and one of Kagome's favorites, but more importantly, it had an underwire design. Seven's beatings had shoved the wire through its cloth binding, and the stabbing at her ribs had given her an idea.

She began to wriggle the wire out from its cloth tubing, surprised when Goliath said nothing, though he continued to watch. Inuyasha would have been impatient, demanding to know what she was doing, and generally making her situation even more awkward.

After a couple of minutes, she managed to free the wire. Pushing herself painfully to her feet, she made her way toward Goliath, but kept her eyes on the floor. Slipping the wire into one of the locks of his wickedly ingenious prison, she began her attempt to pick it. The wire was too thin; she doubled it over on itself and tried again.

"Why?" For the first time, Kagome detected a note of uncertainty in Goliath's voice, and feeling a little more confident, briefly met his gaze before turning here attention back to the lock.

The question in his eyes softened them, made them more approachable, understandable. More familiar.

"Because I can't let the Hand kill any more of you." She attacked the lock more aggressively. "Because I couldn't live with myself if anyone else with that face were to die."

"I could kill you as soon as you free me. Or worse." But there was no conviction in his words.

"Maybe. You'd save me the trouble of figuring out how to get Inuyasha out of here alive, I suppose. But I don't think you will. You're worried about Two… I mean, about Hannibal. I could hear it in your voice." An unexpected bitterness crept into her voice. "I think saving him means more to you than raping a coward."

For several moments, the only sound in the stone waiting room was the grate of wire on metal.

"You're not a coward," Goliath said finally. "I think you may be the bravest person I've ever met."

The lock gave with a click, and clanged loudly when it hit the ground. "You can't have met many good people, then." She pulled the chain free of the bladed panel impaled through Goliath's leg and cupped the end of it, preparing to push it completely through and free the bloodied limb. "This is going to hurt," she warned, and carefully began to slide the plank away from her, through the giant's leg.

"Just do it already!" Goliath hissed through gritted teeth. Startled, she shoved hard on the end of the panel. It squelched loudly as it slipped from its bone-and-flesh harbor, and fell with a clatter to the floor. Blood splattered Kagome head to toe, and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard against the bile rising in her throat. Steeling herself, she moved on to his other leg.

It took a long time to pick each of the locks, partially because she didn't really know what she was doing, but mostly because she could only use her left hand, her right hanging uselessly from her displaced shoulder. How long it took she didn't know, having no watch, no window, and no clock, but she would have guessed anywhere from half an hour to forty-five minutes passed before she was able to free Goliath of the other three bladed planks. Neither had spoken since the first lock had come free. Nausea and tears threatened to overwhelm her more than once; though she'd been exposed to a significant amount of gore and blood in the feudal era, Goliath's prison was a kind of sadism she had never encountered.

When she had finished, Goliath's eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow and broken. He sat quietly for a few moments, evidently waiting for the pain to ebb. The he drew a long, even breath, and stood carefully, testing his injured legs, smiling grimly when he found that they supported him. He turned his amber eyes to the door. With a bone-curdling roar, he swiped at it. Between his claws and his weight, the door gave way. There were no guards outside, to Kagome's surprise. Evidently one cleverly trapped giant and one battered woman weren't considered likely to become escapees.

"Let's go, girl." Easily ten feet tall and correspondingly broad, Goliath towered over Kagome. He stretched out a gore-covered hand to her.

"I can't."

He stared at her. "We're leaving," he insisted. "We have to find Hannibal."

"Inuyasha's still here. I can't leave him." She laid a tentative hand on Goliath's much larger one.

Goliath blinked. "So we'll take him with us."

Kagome shook her head. "Seven has him pretty well trapped, even better than you were. He's wearing a collar that will explode if we try to move him, and if I revive him, there's a syringe full of Judgment waiting for him."

The giant shrugged dismissively. "Hannibal'll figure it out. He wouldn't forgive me if I left you here after you helped us."

"But we –" Goliath swooped down on her, catching her about the waist, obviously intent on carrying her out of the room. The movement jarred her shoulder, and she cried out involuntarily. Suddenly she was on the ground again, new waves of pain-induced nausea flooding over her.

"I don't want to set that for you, girl. I'm afraid I'd take your whole arm off without even meaning to." He frowned in consternation. Then he shrugged again. "Well, there's not really any help for it. It'll only get worse if we leave it like that." Moving more swiftly than she would have imagined possible of such a large person, he reached for her upper arm and jerked it downwards. Kagome shrieked.

There was an odd kind of relief when the bone slid back into its rightful position. Then the pain set in. Unable to choke down vomit any longer, she was thoroughly sick on the stone floor. Little but bile came up, as she hadn't eaten since her capture, but the slimy green mass nauseated her further. She launched into a series of dry heaves that promised to leave her abdominal muscles sore later on.

Until she was finished, Goliath stood quietly. When finally she was able to breathe freely, he picked her up again, gently, cradling her in the crook of his arm, as a mother holds an infant. The blood that still oozed from his wounds soaked through her clothing to her skin. Loosing consciousness, confused by pain, the wet warmth seemed comforting rather than terrible.

Besides which, he smelled like Inuyasha, and Kagome felt a vague smile cross her lips before she slipped into a painless, clean black sleep.


	10. Old Friends

Nope. Inuyasha still isn't mine. I keep praying, though.

A low chuckle roused Sesshoumaru from the darkness.

"I like her, you know," a sweet voice mused. "I really do."

_Rin!_

He struggled to open his eyes. At first, her youthful body appeared blurred, but slowly he was able to focus on her. Perhaps because orange had been the color of the first kimono Jaken had chosen for her, the kimono she wore now was a pale apricot, lushly embroidered with rose colored flowers, a splendid affair befitting the wife of a demon Lord. She smiled gently at him, and a painful wrench in his heart recalled the many times she'd worn that particular expression. The day he confessed his love for her and told her he wanted to wed her. The day she discovered she was pregnant, then the day Aikomi was born. The day Inuyasha brought the fur of the fire-rat to her to make a robe for her infant daughter. She looked like an angel when she smiled like that.

"It wouldn't do for you to leave her now, my Lord. There is much left of life that neither you nor she has tasted, and I would regret your coming to me unfulfilled."

He tried to reach for her, but his body refused to obey him.

"Not yet, my Lord. You must be strong awhile longer." Though he could not touch her, her light, slender fingers stroked gently at his hair, brushing it behind his ears.

"Survive, my Lord. Even now, help comes for you, and for your brother."

She laughed again, softly, with the sweet depth and resonance of heavy chimes stirring in the wind. "For all your power, neither of you ever had the strength to admit to needing help. Maybe that pride is what I found so charming in you. Just once, though, I think I would have liked to hear you confess to needing me."

Stricken, he tried to respond, but found that his voice, like his body, would not cooperate.

Though he wouldn't have believed it possible, her smile became even sweeter. "Please, do not trouble yourself about such foolish things, my Lord. These last five hundred years have been a testament to what your pride would not permit you to say aloud. It is enough; I accept it. If I had needed words, I would have asked for them."

Her smile faded. "I will ask for your life, my Lord. I do not require vengeance; that was always your need. But I do deeply desire your happiness. So please, live. Acquire the peace you have so long denied yourself. Revive our daughter. Love Holden-Truelove. Make amends with Inuyasha. Continue to care for and to protect your new brothers. You have all the makings of a real family, of true happiness, just within your grasp – only be strong enough to build it. Above all, my Lord, be well, be happy, and if you would truly serve me, allow yourself to be loved by those who would love you."

Her lips brushed his forehead. "Oh, my love. Be happy." She left, dissipating like a reflection in a suddenly disturbed pool of water, and Sesshoumaru's face was wet with tears long before he realized he was weeping.

_Ye gods. Is he really crying? He must be having some nightmare. _

Near the windowsill outside Holden's laboratory, a slender figure clung to the old stone walls of Blackbourne Manor. Clad in black and leather-soled shoes designed for their silence, he observed the laboratory and the people within it for several minutes before making his appearance.

_Bloody hell. This whole place reeks of death. And sickness. Dammit, I _knew_ I should have come here first. _He swung himself up onto the ledge of the window, and absently punched a hole through the glass in order to unlatch the lock.

"Well, damn, Holden, if you needed help, you should have called," Shippo drawled lazily, speaking in French, just to tweak her nose. Holden, like any good British woman, hated the French.

He crouched on broken glass on the windowsill, smirking. "I always said you'd be better off with me than with this stinking dog. Kitsune at least know better than to let the Hand get into our private residences."

She turned deeply worried doe's eyes on him, and he suddenly felt ashamed.

"Oi, I didn't mean it, don't give me that look," he defended himself hastily. "It isn't nice to take the person who's coming to your rescue on guilt trips, you know."

"Rescue." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, warning him that he had better make good on his boast, and quickly.

Too many years of his youth had been spent with a certain thick-headed half-demon, and the warning sailed right over the top of his red head. "Yeah. Rescue. And why the hell don't you people have spies inside the Hand that could be doing this for you?"

"Shippo."

"Kitsune have had agents in their ranks almost from the beginning – hell, I've been one of them a time or two."

"Shippo." Even the audible grinding of her teeth didn't clue the hapless fox in.

"Honestly, letting Kagome be captured, I'm surprised I even want to help this guy out. You begged and pleaded with me to let him be the one to protect her, and I played nice, and see where it – shit!" Holden's foot had come out of nowhere, and Shippo hit the wall with a painful thud.

"Can you help me or can't you?" Her voice had become dangerously calm, and the soft eyes of a few moments before steeled into glittering, brittle brown slashes in her face. Finally, perhaps knocked together by the force of Holden's blow, the image, the smell, the voice all connected, and Shippo recognized the pseudo-Guardian's desperation.

"If you didn't just break all the vials of serum I brought with me, stupid," he growled, hoping to leave her with some sense of normalcy, "then I brought enough antibiotics for all three of your precious little puppies, and then some."

He sighed then, and decided to do the un-Inuyasha thing and not wheedle an apology out of Holden before giving her the messenger bag with the promised elixir. "The Hand is responsible enough toward human life to always take the precaution of creating an antibody to any disease they create, no matter who it's directed at. Ever since they screwed up with acquired immunodeficiency syndrome, anyway."

Holden closed her eyes. "To root out four surviving monkey demons. No one can say they don't learn from their mistakes," she snarled bitterly. Her belligerence faded as she took the bag.

"How many died to get this to you?" she asked quietly, head bowed to conceal her eyes.

Grief and guilt wrenched at him; he pushed them aside. "Too many," he answered shortly. "But they knew why it had to be done. We can't allow the Hand to believe that biological threats are viable weapons. They're too dangerous, for us, and for humans. Bringing down Sesshoumaru with Judgment would cement their determination to use these kinds of attacks, perhaps irrevocably. We can't let that happen, any of us."

"Thank you." She spoke in Japanese, and bowed slightly before opening the bag and withdrawing the steel box it contained.

Nestled into heavy black foam were a dozen vials filled with a thin red solution. She fitted a hypodermic needle to each of them with practiced ease, and quickly administered the drug, first to Sesshoumaru, then to One, then to Six.

Shippo watched her with a cynical amusement. "I might have figured you'd get Sesshoumaru first."

"He's in the most danger," she retorted quickly. "He doesn't have human blood to protect him like One and Six do. One came before Six because he's been infected longer, and he's younger."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." He smiled at her grimly.

She glared at him for a moment. Sighing in defeat, she lowered her face to her hands, resting a moment before raising her eyes to meet his once more. "I didn't know what to do," she confessed.

"I couldn't leave them to search out the antibody myself; all of our London people were here at the Estate and… well, not in any position to help me. Sesshoumaru went down in two hours, and Six wasn't far behind. Just keeping their fevers down was more than enough of a chore for one person. I barely had time to call in help from Geneva. And they're still not here.

Shippo looked down. "They hit Geneva just after you called, Ana. I'm sorry."

She laughed brokenly, and Shippo moved to embrace her. "Three fronts," she marveled. "Three perfectly coordinated attacks. God."

For a moment she allowed herself to rest in the protective circle of Shippo's arm. Then she pulled away, dry-eyed and expressionless.

"What else do you know?"

_Okay, sweetheart, if that's how it's got to be._ "I know where Kagome's been taken. The Bandiagara facility has always been their center of cloning activities, that's where Inuyasha has been taken, it's where all seven clones were formed, and it's where the breeders are kept."

"You found out where Inuyasha is. I wonder why they took him back to the Bandiagara? They moved him as soon as we discovered him there." She considered that a moment. "How long have you known?"

"Only when my spies followed Kagome there."

"You had people here?" Holden's voice took on a steely edge. "Why didn't they do something before? They could have helped!"

"They would have been killed too," Shippo growled back. "They're spies, Holden, not warriors. Information was more valuable to all of us than three more corpses to bury."

She lowered her head in acknowledgment.

"As to the other, the only thing I can think of is that Bandiagara is the most heavily secured of their bases, inside and outside. It's remote; it's impossible for anyone to get very far away without water, and they keep a number of their pseudo-Guardians there to keep their cloning experiments in check."

"Reasonable. But you'd think they'd want to hide Inuyasha and Kagome from us."

"They don't think we're much of a threat. Sesshoumaru and I have gone to some pretty drastic lengths to make it clear that we don't like one another. Setting us up as rivals was a brilliant stroke on your part. They never expected me to come rushing here to cure a hated enemy. Unless I missed some bit of surveillance equipment – which I didn't – they don't even know Sesshoumaru and the others are still alive."

Six stirred slightly; Holden rose and went to him. Brushing sweat-soaked silver hair from his face, she watched him quietly for several minutes. Shippo watched her, and when it seemed as though she'd forgotten him, lost in her own thoughts, he slipped up to Sesshoumaru's bed.

The demon lord's face still shone wetly, and not with sweat. Shippo took a damp rag from a bowl of water, and swiped roughly at the tears. He wouldn't have been pleased to know he'd been crying in his sleep, in front of younger siblings and the woman he loved; he reasoned Sesshoumaru wouldn't care for such a state of affairs either.

Suddenly a light kiss descended on his cheek.

"You're not at all bad, Shippo," Holden smiled laconically. "For a skinny little kitsune trickster."

"Eh," he answered carelessly. Then he grinned mischievously and winked at her.

"Have you learned anything else about Miss Kagome?"

That wiped the grin off his face. "No, not really. I know that Seven's there with her, I know that Two and Five have been captured and are also being held at the Bandiagara facility. Well, Hannibal and Goliath, I should say. I don't actually have anyone in that particular base, so everything I've got is secondhand hearsay."

Holden swore violently.

"It's better than nothing, sweetheart. We know where they are, and I've got people watching the whole Bandiagara Escarpment for unusual activity. We'll know if anything big – like a transport – should happen. Things could be a lot worse."

Holden looked down at Sesshoumaru, and Shippo's gaze followed hers. The demon's tears had ceased to flow, and his breathing was rather more even than it had been even ten minutes before. Even the fever flush on his cheeks and forehead had begun to subside. Behind them, Six was rousing himself from his stupor, and One began to snore, a gentle huff that signified a genuine sleep, rather than illness-induced catatonia.

Things could definitely be worse.


	11. Hannibal

Thanks always to the ones to take the time to review. You're rare and special and very much appreciated, by me and by everyone who appreciates an ego boost – or a helpful criticism.

Inuyasha isn't mine, blah blah blah. You know the drill.

Kagome awakened to the sound of gunfire. Her shoulder throbbed mercilessly, playing a cruel counterpoint to her pounding head. Despite the pain, her eyes snapped open the instant she regained consciousness. She'd been placed behind some kind of steel construction in a corner of a room with a high ceiling; upon noticing the white sheets that had tumbled over her, she recognized the steel object as an overturned hospital bed. With a start of surprise, she realized that Goliath must have deliberately placed her there to shield her from the firefight.

A terrible roar assaulted her ears, followed by a strangled scream, the sick cracking of bone and the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. She'd killed enough and witnessed enough killing to recognize the sounds of violent death. A few more gunshots peppered the room, though she couldn't tell where they came from. Another roar, another violent death.

"Goliath! Clear the corridor – buy me some time!"

"How long?"

A disdainful _harrumph_. "Two minutes. Tops."

"You got it."

The clicking of a keyboard. The clicks sped by so quickly as to be almost indistinguishable from one another. Every now and then the person operating the keyboard would pause briefly, then resume again. Kagome assumed the screen needed time to load.

The gunfire had retreated to well beyond her immediate vicinity, so she propped herself up on her good arm and struggled to her feet.

"Sit down. I'm busy." The figure at the keyboard snapped impatiently, though he did not turn his head.

Kagome did as she was told, dropping to her knees in front of the upset hospital bed.

He wasn't very tall. In fact, had they stood back-to-back, he probably wouldn't have reached the base of her skull. Slender, almost fragile, he stood before a massive screen whose image changed so rapidly that Kagome's eyes refused to make sense of any picture or words that appeared upon it. His hair fell straight and severe just past his shoulders, a stiff vertical line of silver that complimented his lanky frame. He looked like a toned-down version of one of those angst-ridden American teens with the piercings and the tattoos and the funny hair styles. Form-fitting leather pants and a tight red sweater completed the look, though both had been ripped at some point, probably during the hostilities.

"There." He said after a moment, a smirk evident in his voice.

ATTENTION. THE BANDIAGARA SELF-DESTRUCT MECHANISM HAS BEEN INITIATED. PLEASE BEGIN EVACUATION PROCEDURES IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: THE BANDIAGARA SELF-DESTRUCT MECHANISM HAS BEEN INITIATED. PLEASE BEGIN EVACUATION PROCUDURES IMMEDIATELY.

LOCK-DOWN TO COMMENCE IN TEN MINUTES. TERMINATION OF ALL RESIDENT TEST SUBJECTS TO BE COMPLETED IN THREE MINUTES. REPEAT: LOCK-DOWN TO COMMENCE IN TEN MINUTES. TERMINATION OF ALL RESIDENT TEST SUBJECTS TO BE COMPLETED IN THREE MINUTES.

A jarring, mechanized voice sounded loudly from somewhere overhead. When it had made its announcement, it began to count down from NINE MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS.

"Self-destruct! What have you done?" Kagome demanded of the back of the small figure's head, wincing as the sound of her voice echoed painfully in her aching head. "Inuyasha's still in here somewhere!"

He turned to face her. He looked as if he were perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old. To Kagome's surprise, did not share the golden eyes that marked the other clones; they were instead a deep, deep green. However, their bitter, scathing glare seemed very familiar. Inuyasha's eyes had looked like that when they'd first met, when he thought she was Kikyo.

"Quit worrying," the boy answered, his tone as contemptuous as his eyes. "The self-destruct hasn't actually been initialized. That would have taken too long to rig. I just manipulated the system into performing all of the warnings of an imminent self-destruct."

She must have given him a blank look, because he continued, his glare hardening. "The system is set up so that a command to self-destruct requires a series of complicated codes to be entered into a main terminal, like this one. Failure to do so sets off an alarm that indicates someone has been messing with the self-destruct program. I created a program that reverses the interface responses. Technically, the system is reading that someone has failed to enter the appropriate information – but the interface devices, the monitors, the intercom, they're indicating that the opposite has occurred. If I entered the security codes, the system would announce that someone had been tampering with it. And there would be absolutely no warning that this whole place was about to go straight to hell." He frowned. "I didn't have time to actually crack the codes."

She still didn't get it. He growled in exasperation. "It's not that complicated, woman."

She blinked. It wasn't exactly "wench," but it was close.

Goliath appeared at the door, grinning broadly, though he was covered in so much blood that it seemed as if he shouldn't be able to move. Not all of it had been caused by the construction in the dungeon-like holding room, either; he'd obviously taken more than a few of the machine-gun rounds that Kagome had heard earlier. How much of the blood was human, Kagome didn't want to know.

"Running like rats," he announced with a wicked satisfaction. "The ones I didn't catch." He flexed his bloody claws suggestively.

Hannibal – for that was who the irritating youth had to be, Kagome realized – cocked his head to the side. "You get all the fun, Goliath, you know that?"

"And you get to blow things up. Tell me that's fair," the giant retorted. They shared a bloodthirsty grin. Hannibal cast a scornful look at Kagome.

"I suppose we ought to release the progenitor," he offered grudgingly. "Before they realize this is all a ruse." He returned to his rapid-fire typing, and after a moment – just after the EIGHT MINUTES mark – he turned to Goliath.

"North wing. Fourth corridor, second laboratory on the east side." He grimaced. "It's in the high security area. It's not going to be easy. Even without a human presence, the automatic defenses will still be in place."

"So take the time to knock out the security system," Goliath shrugged.

"Yeah, right," Hannibal answered scornfully. "It's not going to be very long before they realize this place isn't gonna blow. And then they'll be back and on our asses."

"How long would it take you?" Goliath countered.

"Five minutes – if I'm damned lucky."

"You'll get it," the blood-covered clone promised.

"I better," the youth snapped, and his claws set to flying about the keyboard once again.

Kagome watched the exchange, bemused. Obviously, killing Hand members didn't bother either one of them. Just as obviously, they were determined to retrieve Inuyasha before leaving, despite the risk. Kagome didn't know what an automated defense system was capable of, but if it worried this kid – who had on his side a giant that could shrug off incredible injuries – it couldn't be good. So why go to all the trouble? Goliath had said that Hannibal would have displeased with him if he had abandoned her. Were these two people, who killed remorselessly, really going out of their way to save Inuyasha for her sake?

Forcing her wounded body up from its more or less comfortable position on the floor, she moved to stand between the pair.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked softly.

"Because you won't leave without him," the youth answered grimly, green eyes never leaving the screen before him. Goliath shot him an unreadable glance.

"And why should you care?" she persisted.

"I shouldn't. I don't," he corrected, a faint flush on his cheeks. He growled, and Kagome was surprised to hear a plaintive whine slip out. "You helped Goliath. He wouldn't let me go without helping you back. We don't like being indebted. To anybody." He scowled fiercely.

Goliath raised his brows, but didn't contradict the much smaller Hannibal, or offer a comment of his own. His interpretation of the situation certainly didn't match up with Hannibal's. Kagome wondered who was right, and who was just proud.

Maybe they both genuinely wanted to help her. Maybe neither one of them wanted to leave her behind, and were just too proud – like Inuyasha – to admit it. Six and Seven had said they had memories of her… maybe these two did as well? Was it possible that subconsciously, they remembered caring about her?

Kagome remembered what Six had said about his memories, his impression that she and Inuyasha had shared a physical relationship. Then she recalled of the first words Goliath had said to her in the holding room, before she'd turned the lights on, and the vicious kiss Seven had inflicted on her, and shuddered.

So Inuyasha had desired her. It warmed her to realize how great his desire for her had been; there had been so little time to say anything back then…

_Chunks of flesh were falling from the sky, with an acidic rain of blood and saliva and tears and gods knew what else. Precious little was left of Naraku, now, his body was slowly falling apart, without Onigumo's soul to hold it together. It was over… Miroku's wind tunnel vanished… Kohaku had finally joined the ranks of the dead… and the jewel was whole. It returned to its place in her body, purified of Naraku's evil, its powers once again dormant. It should have been the end._

_From the inner mass of Naraku's body, the core that had yet to disintegrate, some glimmer of life sparked still. A tentacle of flesh lashed out at the well. _

_"No!" Kagome screamed. If the well was destroyed, how would she get home? She would never see Grandpa again… Souta… Mama... _

_A strong arm caught her about the waist, and Inuyasha ran a close race against the tentacle toward the Bone-Eater's Well._

_"Inuyasha! The well!" Kagome shrieked._

_"I know, stupid, I'm trying!" he snarled._

_The tentacle reached the well before them._

"Are you paying attention, stupid?" a thin little Inuyasha with green eyes demanded. "I said: 'we need to get going.' So get moving."

She shook her head to clear it, and immediately wished she hadn't; it began to throb even more painfully.

"Sorry," she murmured. She rose unsteadily to her feet, but she wasn't on them long before Goliath swept her up in his arms once again.

"Faster this way. Don't mind the blood," he smiled, a thin-lipped, wolfish kind of smile that held no apology whatsoever in it. She smiled faintly, uncertainly, in return. She had no other allies in this place, and thus far, they seemed to have at least some genuine concern for her welfare, despite their rough edges. Inuyasha had been that way, and she'd given him a chance. She couldn't do less for his clones.

The trip though the facility was uneventful, though Goliath's bounding leaps and strides aggravated Kagome's injuries. An announcement of 30 SECONDS was explanation enough as to why they encountered no human resistance, and Hannibal had managed to shut down the automated defense system. So it was that they arrived at the laboratory that Seven had brought her to some indeterminate time ago.

Inuyasha still lay quietly on the hospital bed, in his white hospital gown, left foot still dangling over the edge of the table, as it had each of the countless time Seven had brought her here to beat her. Nothing seemed to have changed since her last visit.

"So this is him," Hannibal said with wonder. "We never got to actually see him."

"He doesn't look so tough," Goliath scoffed, but he too regarded Inuyasha with a queer reverence.

For a moment, Kagome caught a glimpse of a curious kid behind Hannibal's bitter green eyes, but as he took in the terrible trap that had been laid for "the progenitor," his cynicism reasserted itself.

"I've been thinking about this," he said, gesturing roughly to the syringe and the collar. "I think – " A round of gunfire cut him off.

And Kagome's body exploded in pain.

_"Dammit!" Inuyasha yelled. He flung a blood-soaked claw at the tentacle after its first blow demolished half the well. _

_"Go!" Swiping away enough of the wreckage to push her through, Inuyasha unceremoniously dropped her into the well and howled another challenge at the rapidly dissolving Naraku. Her last glimpse of him had been just before the tentacle struck the well a second time, sending broken bits of wood crashing down on top of her._

_Even in that moment, in the heat of the battle, he had recognized the finality she hadn't yet grasped. A terrible sadness filled his eyes before a splintered plank hid him from view. She landed in her own time, and the well collapsed on top of her._

Oh, gods. The beatings had been terrible. The wrench of her dislocated shoulder being pulled back into place had sickened her. But nothing she had ever experienced felt like this, this horrible burning, the hot blood rushing down her body. Had Inuyasha felt this, when Sesshoumaru had plunged a poisoned hand through his chest, just prior to that first time the well had divided her from Inuyasha? Her thoughts were blanketed in an red fog of pure agony, and she drifted in and out of the present and the past.

She was vaguely conscious of having been set on the floor. A distant roar told her that Goliath was on a rampage again, seeking out the person who had fired the gun.

_Shot. I've been shot_, she thought wonderingly. _Three years in the Warring States Period, and I'm going to die of gunshot wounds. Ironic… it's ironic._

"Not how I wanted it to end, Higurashi," Seven purred. "But it will have to do."

_Seven!_

A fight… Seven… and the big one… Goliath… where was Hannibal?

Where…

_Kagome huddled against the wall of the shrine, surveying the ruins of the well. Had it been three days? It didn't feel like three days. It felt like an eternity._

Hannibal, Hannibal. Was he dead? She hoped not. He was too like Inuyasha, more than any of the other clones, he was bitter and cynical and shrouded with hurt and bad memories, but something inside was still good, still reachable, still worthwhile and worthy. She wanted to reach it and make it all of him and wipe away the hurts…

_She hadn't left off her vigil for more than a few minutes at a time. She couldn't eat, the thought of eating made her sick, she slept in the shrine crouched by the well, determined to be there when he came for her._

_Because he was coming for her. He would find a way. She believed in him; he would come for her._

_She knew it._

"Bastard!" Hannibal shrieked. Good, he was still okay. She hoped Goliath would take care of him. She was sorry she couldn't.

The fighting came close to her. She was aware of Goliath's massive presence, of Seven's cruel desires.

Goliath was winning. Kagome tasted Seven's fear on the air, and it was a curious thing, because she'd never really been able to sense that kind of thing before. But it was tangible, now; she was as attuned to his gut-wrenching fear as she was of the feel and the metallic stink of the blood pumping out over her, the cold floor beneath her. _Sandwiched between hot and cold_, she thought insanely, but both smelled like metal. Cold. Cold and impersonal. Blood was impersonal. It was the same whether you brought it out of a demon or a human or a child or a warrior. She and Seven were nothing alike, but he would bleed just like she did. Probably he was right at this very minute, because Goliath was winning, and his fear tasted very sweet.

_I don't want to be me anymore. He loved me. I lost him. Let me be somebody else, I want to be somebody else. _

_Somebody who didn't love him._

_Somebody who didn't have to remember his sad eyes or regret never having been able to say anything about anything that mattered._

_Somebody else, I want to be somebody else._

_Gods, please._

_Make-up._

_Short hair._

_Blue room._

_Pierced ears._

_But nothing worked. No matter how she changed her room or her face or her style, always Kagome's eyes looked back at her from the mirror._

_And always they looked like Inuyasha's had at that last unspoken goodbye. _

_Sad._

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Goliath bellowed. She wouldn't have thought it was possible to be in more pain, but she felt herself cruelly lifted from the ground and was shown otherwise. Somehow, Hannibal also had ended up in Goliath's grasp, pressed closely against her and the giant's chest.

An explosion threw them all forward.

She landed with a squishy thump on her back, looking up at Goliath. His eyes… red?

Was it just the fog of her pain? Or were they…

Demon. Goliath was becoming a full demon.

_I should be afraid._ But she wasn't. Because as a full demon, he might just kill Seven. She wanted Seven to die.

Had she ever truly wished for someone to die? Kikyo? No… not like this, not out of pure hatred. Naraku? Yes, but for Inuyasha. For Kikyo and Sango and Miroku and Kohaku and even for Kagura and Kanna, for all the people he hurt.

Seven hurt her. Seven wanted to destroy Inuyasha. Seven should die. She wanted him to die.

And, dammit, she wanted to _live_ long enough to see it.

But she wouldn't, because he had escaped. Goliath managed to run him off, but not to kill him.

The giant crumpled beside her, his massive head inches from her own. His eyes had cleared; death was imminent for him, and for her.

"I'm sorry, Kagome," he growled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't kill him."

Had she said that out loud? She tried to answer, to tell him it was okay, but her mouth wouldn't work, so she forced her head into a brief nod instead.

"Stay away, Hannibal," Goliath ordered harshly, blood flecking his lips as he spoke. "That syringe blew all over me."

Syringe… syringe? Then the explosion had been… Inuyasha's collar? She had to wake him up… or he would die with her.

"Inu…" she whispered, forcing air through her vocal chords. "Inuyasha..." Blood rose in her throat; she could say no more.

Her eyes sought Hannibal, who had disregarded Goliath's order and had knelt between the two of them.

"No."

She pleaded with her eyes. _Please, Hannibal. Take me to him._

"No."

Reproaching him with her eyes, hurt and angry, she tried to speak, but succeeded only in choking on blood.

"I won't let you wake him up just to watch you die."

"Hannibal…" Goliath breathed hoarsely.

"What?" His voice was tight.

"Caradoc."

"Caradoc?" Hannibal's eyes widened, and he shot a searching glance at Kagome, who didn't know what a Caradoc was, and considering her current state of affairs, probably never would.

Green eyes went hard. "I won't leave you."

"I'm dead anyway, kid, you saw what that explosion did to me," he growled harshly. "Besides," he coughed, "you shouldn't be this close to me anyway."

"Goliath…" That whimpering snarl that had amused her earlier now threatened to break her heart.

"Now, kid. You don't have much time." He coughed again and closed his eyes. His breathing sounded as painful as Kagome's felt. "Get Caradoc."

He opened his eyes into narrow little slits, and his mouth twisted into some semblance of a smile. "I won't forgive you if you don't get her out of here, remember?"

Hannibal started, and Goliath's eyes softened. "And I'll be after you in hell if you don't get out of here yourself."

Hannibal drew a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "It's been… an honor," he stated.

"I love you too, kid. Now get out of here." Hannibal reached down to him; Goliath slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me," he warned. "Go."

Hannibal swallowed hard. Then he rose and broke into a hard sprint across the room.

"I'm sorry," Kagome mouthed. Then, "Thank you for trying."

Inches away, it was impossible to miss her meaning.

"Don't you give up yet."

She blinked. Like Goliath, she was already dead.

Surely he could see that?

"I told you earlier I thought you were the bravest person I had ever met. Don't prove me wrong. You hang on til Hannibal gets back with Caradoc. And when he does, you remember what's important." He lost the fight to keep his eyes open.

"You hear me, Higurashi? You remember what's important."

She watched him, struggling to breathe past the blood in her windpipe. He barely seemed to be breathing at all.

"And you… you take care of Hannibal for me. I always… promised him he… wouldn't be alone…"

He coughed weakly, and said no more.

Strange… she was dying… he had to know that… why ask her something like that? But she nodded anyway, and struggled to stay awake until Hannibal returned.


	12. Men and Demons and Unicorns?

Still not mine, but I keep wishing.

Fifty reviews! I'm so excited! Thank you everyone for taking the time -- you're the only reason I do this.

ooooo

"Sesshoumaru!"

Judgment's effects hadn't entirely disappeared when the demon chose to rise, and willpower alone kept him on his feet. Holden, damn her, saw his weakness.

"We're going," he said, waving off Holden's concern. A hand gripped his shoulder firmly.

"Not yet, brother," Six corrected, tightening his grip. "You still haven't shaken off all Judgment's after-effects. You should rest."

A snarl formed in Sesshoumaru's throat – really, who was the half-demon to mother _him_? But when he whirled on Six to respond, he was taken aback by the clone's expression, and his anger faded as quickly as it had flared. Placid and unassuming, but oddly tender, an affectionate smile touched the corners of Six's mouth. He plainly expected Sesshoumaru to capitulate – and, also plainly, saw nothing demeaning or unworthy in the surrender.

Six dipped his head to one side and dropped his hand, smiling. "It's important to get Kagome and Inuyasha back safely, I know. And you've been waiting a long time. But if you'll wait a little longer, things will go much more smoothly in the end. I'm sure you know that." The kitsune, for once, wisely held his tongue, though he watched the exchange with interest.

Once again, Sesshoumaru was forcefully reminded that Six was not Inuyasha, was nothing at all like Inuyasha. Because Six had been, for the most part, protected from the things that made Inuyasha act cocky and proud and rash and altogether aggravating, because Six didn't have 'the progenitor's' hang-ups. Because Sesshoumaru had been there for the clone in a way he had never been there for his half-brother.

"You should definitely rest a little longer, Sesshu," One agreed enthusiastically. "You'll feel a lot better if you do."

_If you would truly serve me, allow yourself to be loved by those who would love you._

The memory of his beloved wife's words, whether they had been dreamed or imagined or actually spoken, dissolved his will to resist.

"Soon, then," he answered quietly, and retreated from the room with as much dignity as he could muster. If he were going to stay home a little longer, he was going to do it in his study, by his fire, sitting in his chair.

As the door swung closed behind him, he heard the kitsune mock his parting words. He almost made it back into infirmary to mete out an appropriate chastisement to the infuriating little rodent – preferably something involving a great deal of blood – but paused as he heard the sound of several fists crashing into the witless fox's skull. Six sighed a long-suffering "Shippo…" and One put his two cents in with, "Kagome said it wasn't nice to make fun of people! Aren't you a grown-up? Shouldn't you know better?" Holden said nothing, but delivered a second blow to register her discontent with Shippo's antics.

_Aren't you a grown-up? Shouldn't you know better?_

His mockery of Inuyasha had been a good deal more sophisticated than the kitsune's ill-fated joke at his expense, but it amounted to the same thing.

_You have all the makings of a real family, of true happiness, just within your grasp – only be strong enough to build it._

_Rin, Rin, I'm trying._

_Oh, my love. Be happy._

As he slowly made his way down the corridor, feeling like he was going to collapse but refusing to brace himself against the wall, he was astonished to realize that, despite everything having gone to hell, despite the girl being kidnapped, despite the danger that had threatened One and Six, and even his own brief brush with death, there was a part of him that was perfectly at ease. The encounter with Rin strengthened him like no personal resolve ever could have done. They would get the girl back – and Inuyasha with her. That alone had been a stroke of good luck, that the kitsune had been able to locate the half-demon and his human lover. The clones had pulled through, and he could feel his own strength rapidly returning to him. After five hundred years of waiting, his ancient vendetta was finally coming to a head.

And he wasn't going to face it alone.

ooooo

"Higurashi." _No, no, hush, let me sleep, it hurts._

"Oi, Higurashi, wake up already." _No._

"Geez, woman, don't you want to live?" _Pain… does living mean continuing this pain?_

"Or are you okay with that guy dying?" _That guy… That guy? Inu… Inuyasha? Are you dying, Inuyasha? No, no, why? _

_Stupid, you're dying. He's sealed to you, remember?_

_I can't die. I can't die._

_I can't die! Inuyasha... I want you to live!_

Kagome forced her eyes open.

"Finally," Hannibal remarked snidely. But Kagome wasn't looking at Hannibal.

Staring down at her was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His flesh was like finely carved marble, pale, flawless but for a strange, silver star-burst marking in the very center of his forehead. Deep violet eyes, wet with tears, regarded her with great tenderness. Perfectly curled hair tumbled elegantly over his shoulders, and the barest hint of a gentle smile graced his generous mouth. He was slender, very slender, and to Kagome, seemed to be made of fine porcelain, something precious and irreplaceable that would break if mishandled.

Her first thought was that he was so beautiful, he made Sesshoumaru look positively butch. Her second was an attempt to discern why on earth this beautiful person was looking at her with such a sweetly sad expression.

"This is Caradoc, Higurashi," Hannibal said shortly. "You're both in a position to do the other a favor."

Her mind must have been foggy with pain, because she didn't understand. Certainly she couldn't respond; her throat was filled with sickeningly warm, metallic blood.

"He's a unicorn."

She blinked. Unicorn? He was a man, wasn't he? Or a demon? Not a horse with a horn.

And suddenly she realized what Hannibal was trying to do. She couldn't speak, but her horror didn't need words; she writhed and thrashed madly, mindless of the pain and the blood, desperate to be understood.

Tears slipped from the beautiful man's eyes, and he gently restrained her.

Hannibal watched her intently, and she thought for a moment that he seemed very sad. But when he spoke, his tone was brusque.

"Caradoc has lived his whole life here, Higurashi. Like his father, and his father's father, and his father's father's father, he has spent his entire life waiting to be destroyed by the next worthy Hand member. And when that happens, his son will be imprisoned in this godforsaken place to suffer the same fate."

He looked away from her. "Do you know that unicorns only come to virgins in the myths? It's because there are only males… they procreate with human women. But they pass on the whole of their essence their unborn child when they mate – and after the mating, the unicorn dies, leaving the woman alone to care for and protect a demon's child."

She shook her head frantically, urgently, fighting to remain conscious, terrified of what might happen if she didn't. She didn't want to know; she didn't want to hear it. Six had told her enough, she wanted nothing to do with it, nothing.

He heartlessly continued. "Problem is, unicorns are born in their natural form, hoofed and horned. Any normal human woman would die in childbirth trying to bear such a thing. Which is why the bearers of single-sex demons don't remain normal human women. Why they become guardians, possessing, among other things, supernatural healing abilities."

He looked at her again. She shook her head slowly, horrified, but couldn't take her eyes off of Hannibal's burning green orbs.

"Caradoc's life has been one of terrible loneliness and endless fear. He is content to let it go – if doing so meant that his son could be born of a woman worthy to be a guardian. If his son could have a better life."

The beautiful man… the unicorn… Caradoc… turned infinitely sad eyes on her, tears streaming along his perfect face.

"He can save you, Higurashi," Hannibal pressed mercilessly, and bitter tears escaped Kagome's eyes even as she anticipated Hannibal's next words. "And letting him save you is the only way you can save Inuyasha."

ooooo

Silvery blond hair swept across black leather, and Shippo took a moment to admireHolden's shapely body – after first making certain that Sesshoumaru was nowhere to be seen, of course. He toyed with the idea of slipping into Sesshoumaru's form for a moment, but decided against it. His head still hurt where she'd depreciated his humor earlier.

It was easy to forget just who Anastasia Holden-Truelove was, from time to time. She wore so many faces that Shippo could never be certain of an appropriate approach to her. Her most frequently donned mask, at least since the arrival of the clones, had been clipped and cool and professional, but there was a lot more to her than that. She had begun her adult life as a vigilante demon-slayer, and though she wore lab coats and slacks more often than not nowadays, the leather-clad, armed-to-the-teeth soldier that had taken the doctor's place was testament to the depth of reality behind that first persona.

Sesshoumaru entered just then, and looked the woman up and down before asking indifferently if she was ready to leave. Six followed him in and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for Holden's response.

"I'm ready," she told them shortly. She tightened the strap of her shoulder-holster forcefully, and Shippo could feel the aggression seething under her skin radiating like a furnace.

A sudden insight about the confusing woman occurred to him, and he wondered why he hadn't seen it before. Humans weren't really meant to live as long as she had; they changed as the years passed. Usually they judged their world as complex, and spent their lives examining its convolutions. Demons were precisely the opposite; they tended to oversimplify complex principles. Primitive urges and desire drove them: this is mine, this is good, that is wrong, this benefits me, this does not, this wounds me, this brings me pleasure. This almost infantile understanding of his or her experiences dominated the thinking of a demon – and ultimately, the vision of humanity had proven to be much greater. A search for the minutia, a deep curiosity to delve into the complexities of life and nature and the mind – that was part of what had come to constitute human greatness.

Unless, of course, like Holden, a human saw so many things and felt so many things and did so many things that they could recognize patterns, and learned to simplify his or her experiences, even as demons did. Then they stopped caring about the intricacies of life, and spent their time and energy pursuing simple, primitive wants and needs, and identifying the necessary actions that must be taken to acquire them. That was the secret behind Holden-Truelove: in the end, she thought and acted more like a demon than a human being.

And when he understood that, a lot of other things fell into place for Shippo. For Holden, the strange relationship she shared with Sesshoumaru was not strange at all. For two human beings, it could only have been miserable and awkward – had been, in fact, for Kagome and Inuyasha. They fought and suffered and struggled right up until the day Kikyo died. To wait for Sesshoumaru to complete his quest for Rin's vengeance, however, was simply a necessity for Holden and the dog, and they neither resented it nor questioned it. They would be together, eventually. It might not have been enough, but they were content to wait.

Her demon-like perception of the world also explained her attachment to Inuyasha's clones, and to the half-demon she had never met. Demons were possessive creatures, and One, Six, and Inuyasha were _Sesshoumaru's_ brothers. Sesshoumaru belonged to _her_ – or would, at any rate – therefore, his brothers were hers as well. Hell, she probably thought Kagome belonged to her, too, come to think of it.

So putting herself at risk for the girl she'd only just met and the half-demon she'd protected most of her life was a perfectly natural thing to do.

"Are you coming, Shippo?" Six asked, a quirk of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, just thinking. Bandiagara's one of the Hand's trump cards – there's always been extra security because of the cloning and guardian experiments that take place there. I brought more of the Judgment antibody, but it would be pretty stupid to think that Judgment is the only thing they'll have to throw at us. I know there are at least six pseudo-guardians there, and maybe as many as a dozen, and there could be some genetic freaks out there as well. Although that's pure rumor. None of my guys actually got close enough to verify the rumors; the perimeter defenses were too good."

He frowned, thinking. "I'm almost willing to bet that there'll be a purification barrier around the facility, or at least the most sensitive parts of it. If that's the case, Holden, we're really going to be counting on you and your men." As soon as Holden had gotten the antibody into her boys, she'd immediately phoned her people in Paris and ordered them to Mali. With any luck they wouldn't be far behind Sesshoumaru and Shippo.

"We can take out any purification barriers," Holden told him with confidence. "They don't have all that many holy men that are willing to work with them, after all. And those that will are mostly corrupted priests anyway. They won't present much of a problem." A bloodthirsty gleam hit her eyes, and Shippo had to force himself to keep from looking away. "No problem at all."

Sesshoumaru laid a calm gaze on each of them, and Shippo was reminded why he had chosen to work with the arrogant bastard, despite all the troubles he'd caused for them in the past. Whatever else he was or wasn't, Sesshoumaru was one hell of a leader – and Shippo was a good enough leader himself to recognize it. He closed his mouth and waited for Sesshoumaru to speak.

"We're leaving." He grasped Holden's arm and sped out of the window and into the skies, leaving Shippo cursing under his breath. He transformed into the massive fox from that kitsune took when they reached adulthood, and waited impatiently for Six to climb on. Then he took off after Sesshoumaru, south and eastward, and within minutes they had left jolly old London behind.


	13. Choice

You know the drill -- stuff you don't recognize is mine, stuff you do I only wish belonged to me.

I think a lot of you have been waiting for this chapter, so I hope I don't disappoint you. It goes fast, and its not very long, but I was dealing with some very heavy themes, and long would have somehow undermined what I was trying to do. Enjoy!

----------

"It's a shitty choice to have to make, Higurashi. I don't envy you."

Hannibal's voice was careless, but even in the bloody mist that muffled her perception, she recognized the hurt he was trying to hide. Inuyasha had done that. He'd been better at it in the beginning, before he really began to trust her…

Trust…

Which was the bigger breach of faith?

How could she… she didn't even know this man, this fragile, beautiful person who asked so much of her.

But then, he offered a great deal in return…

One life for two… no… for three…

But what was a life worth?

----------

"What in the name of hell is going on here?" Shippo demanded.

They'd reached the perimeter of the Bandiagara facility moments before, only to discover that the whole damn place had been deserted.

"Major evacuation. Evidently the self-destruct alert was activated." The little tanuki addressing Shippo grinned wryly. "I'm betting that's Hannibal's work. He's done it before; although I'm surprised he was able to hack through the new security measures they installed."

"You idiot!" Shippo exploded in Japanese. "If they evacuated, they damn well took the half-demon and the girl with them!" He ground his teeth in frustration. "At least tell me you dispatched men to follow the convoys?"

"All of the convoys were followed. Inuyasha and the girl – not to mention the two clones – were not among them. I feel confident that they remain within." A slim kitsune female slipped out of the darkness. "We are attempting to disengage the perimeter defenses; it's proving more difficult than we had first anticipated. However, Sumedha has arrived, and she'll soon set that to rights."

"Anzu?" He wanted to strangle her, she shouldn't be in this dangerous place. But the little vixen had picked up her powers of manipulation from her mother, and a few bats of those big blue eyes was all it took to wrap her doting father around her tiny clawed hands.

"Beautifully done, as always, Anzu," Holden said with a smile. "Though I still haven't forgiven you for stealing Sumedha from me."

"Ssssshalll we ennnterrr?" A sibilant whisper emerged from behind one of the boulders that surrounded the Hand's operational base. "Thisss desssert ssssannnd isss mossst unnnpleasssannt."

Sesshoumaru inclined his head slightly. "I see you still continue to sell your skills, Sumedha. Though I can't understand why anyone of your abilities would choose to work under another."

"Thaat would be my conccccern, Sssshhhessshhoumarrru-sssama."

"I suddenly feel much better," Shippo grinned. A naga woman slithered forward to stand by his daughter. Raised to her full height, she was extremely tall; even Sesshoumaru was forced to look up to her. But Shippo had always liked her. She served her own purposes, and you could never tell what was going on behind her dead, slitted eyes, but she had a dry sense of humor and was thoroughly professional. She was paid by the job – and until the job was complete, you could trust her completely. A very professional, very dangerous kind of woman.

"Annnzzzu, tthhheee perrrimettter defennssessss arrre down. Dai wannntedd you alssso to knnnow tttthat Sssevvvvvennn hassss nnnot leffft ttthhee prrremmmissessss." She crossed all four of her arms.

"Dai's here, too?" Shippo demanded, relief washing over him. At least Anzu hadn't been foolish enough to come alone.

His serious little girl suddenly burst into a brilliant smile. "You said you wanted the best of the best here, old man. You couldn't have meant anyone but us."

----------

Kagome was dying.

And because she was dying, Inuyasha was dying.

"The Hand will soon realize that I fooled them; I'm going to monitor the facility, and hopefully keep them away from here long enough for the other demons to escape." Hannibal dropped down beside her, though he didn't look at her again.

"The choice is yours – Caradoc won't touch you without your permission, so don't be afraid of that. But whichever you choose, I don't especially want to be here to watch."

She gurgled blood, trying to ask him not to go. But if he understood, he ignored her and raced away, arms thrown behind him in a run so familiar that Kagome began to weep.

The ethereally beautiful unicorn sat near her, violet eyes wet with tears. She swallowed blood, or tried to; she choked painfully on it. Caradoc raised a delicate hand to the silver star on his forehead, then touched Kagome's hair with the same finely-boned hand. Immediately the pain faded, though it was still impossible to draw a full breath.

She found strength enough to shake her head.

Caradoc smiled sadly, faintly, and rose, only to kneel beside her. In moments, he had gently cradled her in his arms, and began to carry her toward the hospital bed where Inuyasha lay.

He stooped briefly when he reached the bed and gently deposited Kagome in the open arms she had waited to fill for so many years. With the same tenderness, Caradoc placed her hand in Inuyasha's.

It was cold.

----------

He could smell it. He knew all too well the sickeningly sweet, metallic fragrance of blood, knew immediately it was hers.

The Higurashi woman was dying.

The other demons had caught the scent as well, and Holden read their somber expressions like words on a page. But there was no Tensaiga this time around. No miracle necklace, no sacred jewel. Only the waiting arms of death.

And unless she revived him before she died, he would die with her.

Although watching her die would probably kill him anyway.

"We're going," Sesshoumaru informed the others, and took Holden by the waist, preparing to leap over the wall of the perimeter.

"Going so soon, Anastasia, dear? But you haven't introduced me to your friends yet."

"Minerva," Holden ground out, wresting herself out of Sesshoumaru's one-armed grip. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"It's been such a long time, darling."

"I want none of your bullshit, Minerva. You haven't the brains for a decent repartee anyhow."

"My, my, aren't we testy." A raven-haired woman appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Damnation. Just how had she snuck up on him? Even now, he couldn't smell her.

"Go on, Sesshoumaru," Holden told him, eyes on the pseudo-guardian. "I don't need you here."

"Ah, no, dear girl, I don't think so. Although I have every intention of stripping the rose crest from your body all by myself, and would be terribly disappointed if the dog were to interfere, we really can't allow pets to enter the compound." She snapped her fingers, and they were surrounded. "They do so diminish the property value of a home."

She looked at each of the demons in turn. "Can't figure out why you can't scent us, is that it? I'd tell you, but it's still fairly confidential. Though once we're through with the two of you," here she nodded at Sesshoumaru and Shippo, "it won't matter whether it remains a secret or not. I really can't name any other demon-headed organizations with enough power to challenge us."

She leapt effortlessly onto one of the boulders, a vicious smile of triumph on her face. "You're finished, Sesshoumaru."

----------

_"Let me protect you."_

_"Just stop crying!"_

_A hand through his chest._

_Blood-spatter._

_"Go home to your own time!"_

Kagome smiled. Warmth tingled through her, inviting her into those precious, precious memories.

_"Didn't you say you'd always protect me with this sword?"_

Always. Anything. He would have done anything.

Anything.

Anything.

_"Don't worry, Kagome, I'll definitely protect you!"_

She was a coward.

He would have done anything.

But he would reject her if she did this.

Anything.

She could do it now. Caradoc had given her the choice, without ever saying a word. She could revive him, now, and die in his arms. Except…

Except she'd only seen his tears once, when he believed she'd died. And she never, never wanted to see them again, because she knew, _she knew_, he would rather die than be alone again.

He wouldn't be alone, though, right? Six? Sesshoumaru? Holden? They'd take care of him, wouldn't they?

Would that be enough?

She was a coward.

And he would have done anything to keep her alive.

She didn't deserve that.

Caradoc too, come to think of it, he was selfless like that… he would die for the hope of a better future for a son he would never see. And he'd save her life to do it.

She didn't deserve that, the hope he put in her, the hope he'd lose because she was a coward.

She was a coward, because the right choice was right there, and she didn't want to make it.

Three ill-gotten lives had to be worth more than a virtuous death. The one betrayal demanded of her could not possibly outweigh than the good in saving Inuyasha, in saving Caradoc's hope.

But she was a coward.

A coward, because she couldn't, couldn't see Inuyasha cry again. A coward, because she couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't want her afterward. A coward, because her own potential suffering meant more to her than Caradoc's or Inuyasha's.

Anything… he would have done _anything_.

_"Go home to your own time!"_

He had once chosen to be forever divided from her, rather than face the possibility of her death.

And that, of course, had been the right choice. And it still was.

Anything.

_Inuyasha… forgive me._

_----------_

The guns weren't much of a threat. Between Shippo's foxfire and the dog's vicious energy whip, most of the Hand soldiers were disarmed within seconds. The scented explosives they threw were a little more problematic; Shippo's senses were reeling after the first few. Of course, he and Sesshoumaru were also slightly distracted, and so perhaps a little off their games – Holden had joined the pseudo-guardian Minerva on top of the boulder, and Anzu was shrieking curses he knew he hadn't taught her into the Hand's ranks, along with dozens of mirror illusions. A number of Shippos, Sesshoumarus, Sixes and Sumedhas vanished in a puff of smoke. She replaced them instantaneously. As quickly as the demons and their doppelgangers were moving, it was impossible for the humans to tell what was real and what was not.

But there were just so many of them.

----------

Sesshoumaru was only half-watching what he was doing. Most of his attention was focused on Holden. She was talented, certainly, but the other had such a terrible aura of killing.

Many demons took a perverse pleasure in pain. But he'd seldom felt such a strong bloodlust from a human being. This woman would carve Holden into tiny pieces, eat her flesh, and drink her blood before her desires were quenched.

Of course, he kept Six and the others well within his senses as well. Not that he needed to worry; they were all performing remarkably well.

The kitsune especially surprised him. Shippo had been only a kit when Sesshoumaru had first encountered him among Inuyasha's comrades, and he'd summarily dismissed him. But he'd grown up quickly after Inuyasha's sealing, often taking the half-demon's protective role for the demon-slayer and her husband, and their children. In fact, he'd guarded the slayers' village until in crumbled in the Meiji era, though from the shadows. In that region, the fox was still a symbol of good luck because of what Shippo had been for its people. Afterward, he'd turned his considerable talents for deception and misdirection to espionage – and with the cunning vixen that was his mate, had built an underground empire to rival Sesshoumaru's own.

And he'd done it mostly to ensure the protection and well-being of the girl and the half-demon he hoped to see again one day.

Perhaps nothing could be done for the girl. But Inuyasha was not going to die. He, Sesshoumaru, would not permit it.

He couldn't. So he forced his eyes away from Holden to concentrate on the task at hand: eliminating the human beings who stood between him and the brother he'd protected for so many years.

----------

She didn't know how he knew. But he did. And so he gathered her up into his slender arms, and carried her into a room that was a respectful distance from the sleeping half-demon. He lay a soft white blanket over her face and torso, mercifully concealing what he was about to do. His hands were infinitely, compassionately gentle as they slipped away the tatters of her clothing, and he covered most of her legs with another soft blanket. When he finally did touch her, he did so with a quiet, regretful solemnity.

Kagome wept, and choked on blood. And then she slept, and dreamed of beautiful things.


	14. Awakening

Um. Wow. I just wanted to thank everyone who left me with such awesome reviews for the last chapter. I really expected people to be upset about Kagome's decision, or to believe Sesshoumaru to sweep in and rescue her, and I'm happy to find that so many were sympathetic to her (and to me). grins Also, I'm very pleased with the responses I've gotten about Caradoc. I love him to pieces, and I'm glad you liked him too. He was always meant to be a minor character, but a pivotal one, and he's been in my head from the very beginning of this story. I wanted very much to create someone who, without ever speaking a word, could leave an impression, and I'm happy to have done that.

I've spent a lot of time playing with this story and deciding exactly what I wanted to do with it, and it's really become a labor of love. Thank you for putting up with my less-than-sterling proofreading abilities, and with my irregular updates. Thanks especially to those who have been here from the start as I've put this story together – you know who you are, and I always appreciate your comments and your encouragement.

Oh, and by the way, kudos to Avelyn Lauren and Kristen Sharpe for picking up on the continuing presence of Seven at the Bandiagara facility. Your eye for detail will be rewarded momentarily…

* * *

"Anzu!" 

One of the bastards had managed to find his daughter in the sea of illusory demons. He raised a shiny new tranquilizer gun, filled with god-knew-what kind of biological poison, and sneered.

When his head rolled under the feet of his fellow soldiers, that sneer remained pasted to his face.

Shippo considered himself to be a nice guy, at least most of the time. He'd built an empire on thievery and espionage, but he and Chizu knew their boundaries intimately. Assassination lay well outside their moral limits. Killing at all was relegated to a last-defense-only position. Blackmail was acceptable – if your reasons were good and the person you were blackmailing was a real ass. Bribery was almost always okay. In any case, when they could get what they wanted by the book, they did.

But where Anzu, Dai, and their younger sister Kiku were concerned, the rules didn't apply. So lobbing off the bastard's head really didn't bother the kitsune. The fact that Anzu had been in danger worried him a lot more.

"Watch yourself, Anzu!" He spared a glare for his daughter before renewing his struggles with the nearby troops. Dodging in and out of their ranks, popping up briefly before his latest victims, he dipped a tiny dagger neatly into their shoulders before disappearing again. Within seconds, those he'd pricked with his weapon of choice collapsed in drug-induced stupors.

Anzu's great gift was one of deception. Shippo's powers of illusion were fairly run-of-the-mill, like those of kitsune; but over her two-hundred year life, Anzu had raised it to a high art form. She wove horror into the fabric of her illusions, breathed the scent of fear into her dreams. So when it became apparent that more drastic measures were necessary, she pulled out her terrors.

A good quarter of the guards remaining turned tail and ran in the face of her illusions. Trick was, she'd honed her skills so finely that those she chose to bewitch actually created their own illusions – she only fired their imaginations. At least, that's what she said. It didn't make a lot of sense; Shippo didn't know how she did it. Didn't care to, really. His hit and run tactics suited him better anyway.

Somewhere nearer Sesshoumaru, the naga Sumedha was deliberately picking off her opponents one at a time. He wasn't worried about her. Her scales looked like those of an ordinary reptile, but Shippo knew from experience that they were damn near bullet-proof. She was also incredibly strong, and ripped men into pieces as easily as men wrenched apart cooked chickens. He didn't know how old she was. But he'd heard her speak of enough things to know that she was far, far older than Sesshoumaru. And Sesshoumaru was far, far older than Shippo. So even when he employed her, as Anzu had on this occasion, he treated her with due deference and respect.

The naga had been highly respected among humans in India until Islam arrived, and frequently lived together with them happily. The formation of a Muslim version of the Children of the Left Hand of God destroyed the vast majority of the naga, before it was destroyed itself by Hindu fanatics. Most of the survivors struggled against the Hand now, even as kitsune, tanuki, and the occasional irate dog demon did.

Six concerned him, although, as he watched the half-demon clone flying through the mob of gun-toting soldiers, his fears faded. He lacked the passion Inuyasha had always exhibited, but his reflexes were just as good, and his execution of complex martial maneuvers faultless. In other words, though he fought rather more stylishly than his progenitor, he was every bit the badass Inuyasha had been.

With better manners. Shippo smirked to himself and spared a glance for the silver-headed Lord Sesshoumaru, whom he was not in the least worried about. The dog was at his impeccable best, cool, restrained, and merciless. At least, he would have been, but for the unmistakable, searching glance he cast every few seconds at the boulder beside him, and the pair of women struggling bitterly atop it.

It hadn't really been a fair fight, and it wasn't long before they had cleared the area of Hand agents. Dai appeared soon after to tell him that he and those that had been with him had also been attacked, and that one of them, a sweetheart of a dryad by the name of Aster, had been gravely injured. It ruined the victory for him; Aster was a good friend.

Sumedha reminded them that the perimeter defenses were down. Shippo reluctantly sent Dai and Anzu in to scout ahead, and readily accepted Six's offer to accompany them.

All the while, the battle on the rock continued to rage, and Shippo could see the stiffness in Sesshoumaru's back that belied his desire to join the fray.

"She's good, isn't she?" Shippo moved to stand beside the rigid demon lord.

"The very best," Sesshoumaru answered shortly, never taking his eyes off the scene. They watched quietly together until Holden had finished her business, and jumped down from the rock to join them.

"Feeling better?" Shippo smirked. A sheen of sweat covered her brow, and blood spattered her from head to toe. She glared at him, breathing heavily.

"How much of that is yours?" Sesshoumaru stood beside her. Shippo could clearly see his nostrils searching out the scent of Holden's blood.

"Precious little. She was a much greater threat fifty years ago." Holden shrugged. "She was… over-confident."

Shippo grinned. Holden often entered a battle fighting well beneath her capabilities in order to wear her opponent out, careful to _just barely_ avoid being struck, and to land _only a few_ inconsequential blows. After a few minutes of playing, she began to attack like an enraged animal, and quickly demolished the opposition. It was one of Chizu's favorite tactics as well, and so it held a special place in Shippo's regard.

"Ttthhheey rettturrrrnn." Three of Sumedha's four hands gestured toward the dark compound, the other covered a slight wound on her sleek green abdomen.

"Well?" Holden demanded as Six, Dai, and Anzu emerged from the perimeter fence.

"Looks clear… we ran into couple of fauns, a minotaur, and a succubus on their way out."

Shippo frowned. "Who would have released them?"

"Hannibal, evidently." Anzu's voice was amused. "I think we may need to re-evaluate our information on the two escapee clones, Father."

"Did you see any sign of the girl, or the half-demon?" Holden had caught her breath.

"Not a trace, but then, we didn't get inside very far. We saw your finale and decided to come back to get you. Very nice, by the way. I especially loved the backhanded slap right before the big finish. Very dramatic." Dai sounded amused as well.

"I don't like any of the psuedos, but Minerva was a particular thorn in my side."

Sesshoumaru suddenly glided silently by, bored with conversation. Holden was close on his heels and Six with her, and after leaving instructions for his children to guard the facility and each other, Shippo followed as well.

Kagome stirred, reluctant to wake. Smooth sheets slid comfortably around her bare legs and feet, and the pillow was very, very soft. It felt like she had dreamed a wonderful dream, but only snippets of it remained: a clear blue sky over green hills, a laughing stream trickling through a meadow strewn with violet flowers, a beautiful woman with pale, golden hair, standing beside a unicorn, drinking from the brook. She had never felt such peace.

She stretched lazily, and was sharply brought to her senses by the wrench of pain across her stomach. Doubled over with agony, everything that had happened in the past two weeks rushed over her, and flooded the fairy-tale land with its fair maiden.

Maiden… she wasn't that any longer.

When the pain subsided, she realized that, as tender as her abdomen was, she was breathing normally, and she probably wouldn't even have hurt herself if she'd moved carefully.

"You're awake."

She opened her eyes. Hannibal sat perched on the end of her bed, one knee drawn up to his chin.

"Inuyasha?"

"You sure have a one-track mind. He's okay – I brought him in here a few minutes ago." He gestured roughly toward her right. Inuyasha's hospital bed was only a few feet away.

"His brother's finally here, by the way. I watched their little firefight with some of the returning Hand members – it's a good thing they got here when they did, or I doubt we'd still be alive."

"Caradoc?" It felt strange to speak, her throat hurt, but at least the blood that had choked her earlier had vanished.

"Gone." Hurt flashed across his face, he quickly masked it beneath a stony indifference.

"Help me up." Hannibal shot her a contemptuous glare, but the hand he slid behind her shoulders was gentle. She sat up in the bed, with Hannibal's help, and took stock.

Inuyasha was free of the ingenious prison the Hand had fashioned for him: the syringe of Judgment and the exploding collar. Goliath had been sacrificed for that, she recalled, and surreptitiously cast a quick, searching glance in Hannibal's direction. She was relatively safe, for the time being; Sesshoumaru had finally arrived to help her, and she'd acquired a new ally in Hannibal.

Inuyasha was three feet away. After six long years, after all the pain and the hoping and the wondering and the forgetting and the wishing, he was here. All she had to do was wake him up.

And explain how she had come to be pregnant with another man's child.

She struggled to her feet, watching Hannibal mentally debate helping her with a wry amusement. It was too late to change her mind now.

And, she supposed, any choice that ended in her being able to see Inuyasha again, that resulted in Inuyasha being alive at all, couldn't be all bad.

Hell. Maybe she'd even like parenthood.

She frowned as she walked to Inuyasha's bed. She felt… hopeful. Optimistic, even. She knew how he would feel about what happened, and yet.. and yet…

And yet that fairy-tale place from her dream still lingered in her consciousness. Maybe it was the essence of the child within her that made her feel as if everything were going to be alright. Maybe it was just a subconscious denial that anything else could go wrong.

Maybe she was just crazy.

She sat on the bed beside Inuyasha, not entirely certain what she was supposed to do, and not especially worried about it. It would happen.

She knew when Sesshoumaru entered the room at her back, though he didn't make a sound. She felt Hannibal's tension when the others followed him in, Six and Holden, and another presence she didn't recognize. Wait… yes, it was vaguely familiar.

She turned around.

There was Inuyasha's brother, as cool and collected as ever. Holden looked like hell, spattered with blood, and Six didn't look much better. But the man behind them was a welcome sight.

She smiled. "I don't believe it. All this time, you've been around. And you never once came to see me."

"If I had, the Hand would have found you out a long time ago, sweetheart." The redhead made his way swiftly to her and enveloped her in a bear hug. "I'm surprised you recognized me."

Right now, she thought to herself, everything feels like a dream. Why shouldn't Shippo be here? Makes perfect sense.

Sesshoumaru was looking at Hannibal, who tried and failed not to fidget under the icy gaze.

Much to her surprise, the demon broke the contact himself and sighed. "Another one, then." He dropped his head elegantly to one side. "How did you keep her alive? I could smell her blood a mile away."

Instinctively she knew there was something respectful in the way he unquestioningly assumed Hannibal had played a role in saving her life. She didn't know why she knew it, but it felt obvious.

"A unicorn volunteered to save her. Rather," he corrected, "once informed of the situation, he volunteered to save her. I knew he would. Caradoc was that kind of guy. Sucker for a sob story." He tried not to care, and Kagome's heart ached for him.

"Besides," he added softly, no longer looking at anyone, "he always wanted something better for his kid."

Holden strode over to her purposefully, and stripped away the clothes she had on. Briefly she wondered how she'd come to be dressed in the first place. Hannibal must have done it.

She smiled at him. He flushed, scowled, and looked away.

"What exactly happened here?" Holden demanded, gesturing roughly at Kagome's bandaged abdomen. Hannibal must have done that too.

"Seven shot her." Across the room, Six stiffened painfully. Sesshoumaru watched the slight tensing from the corner of his eyes, and Kagome watched Sesshoumaru from the corner of hers. The covert worry was sweet, and she suddenly decided that Sesshoumaru wasn't quite the cold fish she'd thought he was. She smiled at the subtle fraternal dynamics she saw passing between them, smiled at Hannibal's desperation to be though tougher than he was, smiled at Holden's fussing.

She smiled at Inuyasha. Somehow, she knew, everything was going to be okay. It didn't make sense, but the golden-haired beauty in her dream had traded her silky blonde locks for Kagome's black tresses, and the unicorn that stood beside her was no longer a stallion, but a gangly colt. Liquid eyes gazed up at her adoringly, and everything was right with the world.

"Inuyasha," she whispered, "It's time to wake up." She lowered a gentle hand to his silver hair and brushed it away from his forehead. Laying a soft, wet kiss on his mouth, as she had dreamed of doing a hundred thousand times, she closed her eyes and saw him there, in her vision, sitting in a tree by the brook, rolling his eyes at the colt's unrepentant love, hiding a smile behind a red sleeve.

He stirred beneath her, and she propped herself up to better watch his awakening. Slowly, so slowly, his beautiful amber eyes turned upward to meet hers, and the love she felt so perfectly crystallized in her dream was reflected back in their golden depths a hundred fold.

"Kagome?" Her heart and breath fluttered away, like birds on a summer wind.

Then the harshest sounds she had ever heard in her life assaulted her ears. Holden began to shriek in a language Kagome didn't understand, Six and Sesshoumaru had taken off running, and Shippo disappeared through the open door in a blaze of red lightning.

And Inuyasha's eyes fell closed once more, his body lay lifelessly on the hospital bed.

Inuyasha's voice echoed through the halls. "Seek him in Purgatory, whore!"


	15. Resolve

I might have some claim on the clones, but Inuyasha and his world belong to Rumiko Takahashi.

Not much to say here, except thanks to everyone who's reviewed, and sorry to leave you hanging for so long. Enjoy!

Determination

A string of the vilest epithets from sixteen languages – a number of them not even human – spilled from Shippo's lips as he sped across the compound. He'd known Seven was still on the premises, dammitall, he'd _known_ it. And the bastard had held the trump card all along, and all of them, Anzu, Sesshoumaru, Holden, Six, everyone – they _all_ should have realized it.

Seven had been virtually undetectable; he smelled just like Six and Inuyasha and the compound, and even if he hadn't, the Hand apparently possessed a new technology masking them from demonic senses. But they hadn't concerned themselves about his presence. He wouldn't dare attack Inuyasha or Kagome through five demons, a guardian, and Six. They had been confident of that.

Fools, they were all fools. There had never been any need for him to brave the powerful individuals surrounding Inuyasha. He'd only needed to be within earshot.

Gods, how many years had it been since he'd last heard those terrible, harsh syllables screamed like that? Three hundred? Four? What was the last time he'd witnessed the damning of a soul?

He couldn't remember. There had been so many. And now, another had been lost to the twisting netherworld that was Purgatory. Those brief, ugly Latin phrases had stolen countless half-demon children away; now Inuyasha was among them.

Shippo blinked back hot tears as he continued his pursuit of the soul-thief. He hadn't realized until that moment just how much he'd missed the big oaf. And Kagome…

That thought was interrupted by a new fragrance on the air. In this desert wasteland, the scent of ylang-ylang and jasmine stung his nostrils like a welcome spray of water.

He pushed himself harder, grinning fiercely. If _she_ was here, Seven's hours were surely numbered.

Sesshoumaru howled as his body expanded into the immense proportions of a greater demon. Usually he retained a great measure of control over this form; today, he relinquished it. He allowed enough of himself to survive in the tumultuous heat of his true form to recognize friend and enemy – but only just. The kitsune and his kits he felt racing behind him, panting, searching for the creature he himself pursued. A terrible fury welled within him as it occurred to him that they also sought Seven's life. He fought it down with an effort, his soul shrieking in protest: My enemy. My fight. Mine!

The thwarted demon lord threw his massive white head back and howled again.

Sniffing the air urgently, he caught a new scent on the wind, felt a new demonic power swelling before him. And there beside it was his enemy, the pitiful scheming coward who had launched his assault from the darkness.

Inuyasha had never once backed out of a fight with him, never avoided a confrontation, even though he'd known he was outclassed. He never quit, never allowed himself to be defeated. Such _pride_, always that damnable pride. Seven didn't deserve the robes or the face he wore, sneaking through the shadows, striking from the safety of the darkness, only to run from the consequences.

A terrible growl rose in his throat; he released it into another shrill bay.

_Yeah, yeah. Roar, roar to you too, buddy._

At the memory, something wrenched in his chest and the icy rage that had been protecting him so far began to melt. Regret swamped him, threatened to drag him down.

_Failed. I failed._

Though he strove to maintain the numbing, thoughtless rage, it faded in the face of his shame, and his charge ground to a halt.

Shame, for failing to protect his wife, his beautiful, irreplaceable Rin.

Shame, for failing to resurrect his precious little Aikomi, who trusted him as implicitly as ever her mother had.

Shame, for Inuyasha. For failing him on so many levels. For leaving him alone to face a hostile world, when he ought to have been his guardian in it. For trying to take the few things that were genuinely Inuyasha's, things he fought like hell for… Tetsusaiga and the life of the Higurashi woman. For allowing this filthy, paltry copy to steal away his soul, just as he opened his eyes to a new life, a better life.

Sesshoumaru sank to his knees, no longer the great white dog. His body shook as he tried to force it to move against all that weighed it down. Destroying Seven was more important that these ridiculous, unfamiliar feelings. Somewhere he knew that. But his body would not obey him.

_Maybe I'm not so worthless after all._

Inuyasha's voice taunted him from the vaults of his memory, and his palms hit the earth. Yes, that had been his fault too, that Inuyasha had to struggle so hard to reach the conclusion the Higurashi woman – Kagome – had known from the beginning. That Sesshoumaru himself should have seen – if he'd had the eyes to see it.

_Don't disappear, Sesshoumaru! You already gave up your sword. I don't want your death on my conscience too!_

Sesshoumaru blinked, panting for breath on the rocky ground of the outer compound. Insanely, a soft chuckle escaped his mouth. That was… that was the day Tensaiga broke, the day he'd recognized Tetsusaiga as rightfully Inuyasha's. And the day he'd realized his idiot brother gave a damn, despite his very best efforts. Inuyasha had said something to the sword smith… what was it? After Sesshoumaru had walked away, after Inuyasha thought he was out of earshot.

_What will happen to Sesshoumaru? He doesn't have a weapon._

His claws grated along the ground as he drew them into tight fists.

That idiot never knew when to give up. After all they'd been through, he'd still retained the foolish hope that something like brotherhood existed between them, even if he wouldn't have admitted it even to himself. Maybe it was his humanity. Or maybe it was just his pride.

Either way, it was something to learn from.

Sesshoumaru rose to his feet. He couldn't be outdone by the half-breed, after all.

He wasn't giving up. Not yet.

Hoping no one had witnessed his momentary lapse, Sesshoumaru sprang forward, and was propelled by the force of his kickoff for several dozen meters before he had to land to spring again. He didn't move as quickly as he would have in his true form, but passion was the driving factor of that body, and he wasn't quite up to confronting his passions just yet. Already the transformation had calmed him he was able to think beyond impending shredding of Seven's miserable carcass.

After he'd killed the bastard, Inuyasha would have to be taken back the shrine near the demon-slayer's village, ironically enough. Then he and Holden would redouble their efforts to locate and acquire the lily crest.

Oh, and the girl. And the newest clone. They would have to be dealt with as well… but he'd leave that mostly to Holden. Comforting distraught youths was not a particular specialty of his.

But first things first.

Seven.

He sniffed delicately for the enticing floral fragrance he'd caught earlier, and the smell of the half-breed that accompanied it.

So she'd decided to put in an appearance. He shouldn't have been surprised. If there was anything Chizu couldn't stand, it was being left out of a fight.

Within moments, Sesshoumaru had reached the black fox and her captive.

"I didn't think you'd be happy if he got away, dear Sesshy," the kitsune purred. "And I was absolutely certain Shippo would be cross."

A ring of emerald green fire surrounded Seven, who shouted curses from within. The ring closed in on him; he was suddenly, cooperatively silent.

He shot her a dangerous look at the ridiculous appellation; she winked back baldly. "Alright, fine – Lord Sesshoumaru." The mockery in her voice robbed the honorific of any respect it might have imparted.

Shippo arrived seconds later, followed by Six and his children.

"Mother." Anzu shook her head. "Who did you tag this time?"

"You, dear. Dai found his already, the brat. And you know I've never been able to successfully monitor your father."

Sesshoumaru found the family dynamics of kitsune wearying, and queerly out of place in the aftermath of Seven's crime. Surprisingly enough, he found an ally in the father of the family in question.

"Chizu." The black fox turned to her husband, an ominous swish of her tail indicating displeasure with the authoritative tone he had taken with her.

"Yes?"

"This doesn't concern you, Chizu. Or you two, for that matter." He glanced at Anzu and Dai. "Seven belongs to someone else."

She opened her mouth to protest; her son cupped a hand over her mouth and shook his head. Dai took his mother and sister by the hands and led them away. A rush of demonic energy signified their transformations, and soon, all three had vanished into the night.

Chizu's ring of foxfire began to dissipate, revealing the half-demon within.

Sesshoumaru stiffened, bracing himself for the battle, when a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"Didn't you hear me?" Shippo asked quietly. "Seven belongs to someone else." He gestured.

Six had already leapt over the ring of fire to stand beside the other clone, and Seven had completely forsaken the two demons in favor of his hated twin.

Six had been oddly taciturn since Shippo's appearance in the infirmary, but Sesshoumaru had been too preoccupied to notice.

He stood down.

"Six."

A cold, polite smile touched Six's mouth. "It's been awhile, Seven."

"Not long enough, you worthless traitor." Seven's words were snarled from behind bared teeth.

Six considered that for a moment. "Yes, I suppose. But I had rather be a worthless traitor than a damned fool."

"_I_ am a servant of _God_," Seven spat. A fanatic's fervor burned in his eyes, and he advanced slowly on Six.

Six regarded his approach coolly, unperturbed. "You're a damned fool. And you have a very great deal to answer for."

For the second time that day, Sesshoumaru found himself watching the important fight, rather than engaging in it. For the second time that day, he watched the blood fly, and allowed the battle to unfold without his interference. And for the second time that day, when the battle was over, he carefully, covertly examined the victor for major injuries, and was well satisfied when he found none.

Kagome was dreaming again. Her meadow was in full bloom, and the brook trickled along as merrily as ever. Inuyasha slept quietly in the tree, one leg propped up to his chest, one dangling from the bough he sat on. The unicorn colt, with his white coat and soft violet eyes, nuzzled restively at her hand.

A gentle hand rubbed her back.

"Kagome."

She shrugged off the soft touch. For some reason, she didn't want it there.

"Kagome."

Kagome reluctantly opened her eyes. "Inuyasha?"

She bolted upright beside him on the bed. "What happened?" Clasping one of Inuyasha's limp hands in her own, she whirled on Holden, who had wakened her.

"Seven exorcised his soul."

She clenched the clawed hand tightly, staring at the doctor in disbelief.

"His soul is in Purgatory now. With Aikomi and countless other half-demons."

A pair of beautiful, tear-streaked violet eyes appeared before her, and the horror that confronted her slowly evaporated. A quiet voice whispered assurances in her ear; she listened.

"But… you've been looking for a way to revive Aikomi." The fear faded; her voice grew stronger. "There must be a way."

Holden was looking at her strangely. "Yes, there's a way. A doorway must be opened into Purgatory."

The voice continued to whisper to her, offering suggestions, questions, ideas.

"How do you do that?" The voice praised her composure, urged her to pay attention.

"Centuries ago, four crests were created to cross the boundaries between this world, Purgatory, Heaven, and Hell. The key crest, which opens the gates of Heaven, was given to St. Peter, and disappeared. No one knows what happened to the dragon crest that leads to Hell; to my knowledge, no one has been particularly eager to locate it.

Kagome stroked the lines on the palm of Inuyasha's hand, listening carefully to Holden, and to the quiet voice that superimposed itself on her consciousness. "Purgatory, however, as the bridge between Heaven and Hell, must be accessed by a pair of crests: the rose crest and the lily crest."

Kagome repeated the names.

"They're named for Jesus Christ," Holden went on, "the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley. Together, they're supposed to form a bridge between this world and Purgatory."

"Where are they?"

Holden regarded her with intense curiosity, but continued anyway. "I've borne the rose crest for almost three hundred years."

"And the other?"

"So far, we have been unable to locate it."

"So all we have to do is find the other crest," Kagome stated with finality.

"Kagome, love," Holden said gently, her curiosity put aside, "you do realize that Sesshoumaru and I have been searching for the lily crest for four centuries, don't you? We know the Hand is in possession of it, but that's all we're certain of."

"You didn't have me for the past four hundred years." Kagome had almost forgotten Hannibal, who had been sitting quietly by the computer terminal. He flashed a cocksure smile at the two women. "I owe that bastard Seven for Goliath."

He turned to his computer. "They keep everything, everything, in their files. And there's nobody better at hacking Hand data than me. I'll find your damned crest, just to stick it to that sonovabitch."

Holden smiled sadly. "Don't get your hopes up too high, sweetheart."

He scowled at the endearment. "Don't underestimate me."

"I think you can do it," Kagome said quietly. "I know you can."

Hannibal flushed slightly. "That's better." He inclined his chin toward Holden, a mischievous grin on his face. "Hey, old lady."

It was Holden's turn to scowl.

"Do you want to know why she's acting all weird?" He jerked a thumb in Kagome's direction. "You seemed pretty curious earlier."

Kagome considered objecting to being called weird and decided against it. A dreamlike quality had taken over her world, and it was possible that things that felt perfectly natural and normal to her weren't.

Holden looked back at Kagome. "You have been a little strange, dear. I really expected you to handle this whole nasty situation with less… composure. I thought at first you were simply in denial, but I'm beginning to think it's more complicated than that."

"Of course you are," Hannibal muttered sourly. "I just told you so."

Kagome's fingers continued to trace the lines of Inuyasha's hands as she told the little blonde woman about her dreams, sleeping and awake. She left out the part about the voice though, and the violet eyes that seemed to float before her. It seemed… private, somehow.

Holden looked worried.

"Geez, old lady." She glared at him again. "She's not crazy."

"I told you I could tell you why she doesn't seem like herself. Caradoc told me about it once, when we were stuck in the same holding cell. I can't remember what he'd done wrong; I think I'd refused to eat something green."

He cocked his head to the side, looking at Kagome. "I bet you're hearing voices and seeing things too, aren't you?"

She blinked, nodded.

"Yeah. That's Caradoc – or, rather, the part of Caradoc that he left to you. The way he described it, the soul of a unicorn is actually a multi-consciousness, a soul that never dies, but is passed on into the next generation. Every generation adds its wisdom to the collective whole, and passes it on. So, in effect, you're carrying a soul that's been around since the very beginnings of time."

He propped his chin on his fist. "When a unicorn dies, his essence reasserts itself in his child – or, really, he dies because he loses that essence. So his impressions and feelings carry on into the unborn infant.

"Kagome's infant is communicating with her?" Holden interjected.

"Sort of. It's more like he's influencing her perceptions. Caradoc's last impressions of Kagome were compassionate ones; he wanted more than anything for her to not have to suffer. His child was left with that wish, and is trying to sugarcoat the world for her. Every time something goes wrong, he'll point out the silver lining. If she feels fear or doubt or pain, he'll counter it with good memories – or dreams – or just plain common sense." He crossed his arms on the back of his chair and rested his chin on them.

"Basically, he's turned her into the supreme optimist." Something akin humor flashed in his eyes, and he shot a sly look at Holden, before adding cynically: "I guess you _could_ call that crazy."

Kagome had lost interest in the conversation. It was as if he were telling her things she already knew instinctively. She brought Inuyasha's hand to her lips, kissed each knuckle before replacing the hand on his unmoving breast.

"What happens next?" She heard Hannibal's question, tried to listen as the voice instructed her.

"If I know Sesshoumaru, he'll want to get the preservation pearl in Inuyasha's hands as quickly as possible. Which pretty much leaves the rest of us to get back to Blackbourne Manor on our own."

"Easy. There's several military transport helicopters on the compound."

"Who do you expect to fly it, sweeting?"

"You, genius."

"How did you know?" she began, but cut herself off with a surprised laugh. "You've been in our files, too." She smiled wonderingly. "You are _good_."

"Compared to the Hand's stuff, your systems are actually pretty secure," he admitted grudgingly. "I've never found a system I couldn't get into, given enough time. If I were into blackmail, I'd be a billionaire." He bared his teeth in a fierce grin.

At that moment, Shippo, Sesshoumaru, and Six returned. Six looked completely exhausted, and covered in blood. Shippo and Sesshoumaru stood silently behind him.

"Seven isn't going to be a problem any longer," Six said with quiet finality.

The admission made Kagome sad, though she wasn't sure why. It hadn't been that long ago that she'd been praying that Goliath would finish the other clone off. Maybe it was Six's obvious regret, or maybe it was Caradoc's. But she found herself feeling sorry for the deluded creature. She gathered Inuyasha into her arms as Sesshoumaru crossed the room to speak quietly with Holden. Six sank against the wall wearily; Shippo knelt to speak with him before coming to sit by Kagome and Inuyasha on the bed.

"I'm sorry, Kagome. We should have expected Seven to pull something dirty like this." He took one of her hands in his own, head bowed. "I let you down. Both of you."

A flood of compassion overwhelmed her. Sesshoumaru, Shippo, Holden… they'd been waiting for this day for several centuries. It hurt to have to admit to losing this one battle against the Hand, but she'd only just entered the war. She'd pinned her hopes on this day for a few weeks. The others might not have the same connection to Inuyasha that she did, but they'd had less hope to lose. Today must have been simply horrible, for all of them.

Holding Inuyasha to her with one hand, she stretched out the other to Shippo, and brushed his cheek with her fingertips. His head shot up in disbelief as she smiled at him.

"We'll get him back. Don't give up just yet. He wouldn't." With her new, heightened senses, she felt Sesshoumaru's eyes flicker toward her, felt the slight raise of Holden's chin. She glanced at Hannibal, feeling his green eyes on her. He nodded, a determined set to his jaw.

"This isn't over."


	16. Recovery

Alright! I know you've been waiting, but here's the latest news. I'm sorry this chapter is so long, and if it moves slowly, I'm sorry for that too. But I really felt like I needed to get into Kagome and Sesshoumaru's heads, after the horrible few days they've had. So review if you like -- or don't -- but either way, enjoy and good luck with your own work

Kristen Sharpe, I'm sorry to have made you wait so long for the scoop about Six and Seven, but it's here now. I tried to do it justice, and thank you for the suggestion.

As always, Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

Recovery

Six wanted to accompany him. Sesshoumaru hadn't planned on taking anyone with him to Inuyasha's shrine, but something in Six's eyes made him loathe to deny the half-demon. Perhaps he felt he owed the original something. Or perhaps he simply didn't wish for Sesshoumaru to have to be alone.

That thought made him slightly uncomfortable, and he put it from his mind.

"Holden."

The tiny blonde woman had left him to Six's mostly minor injuries; she turned an ear in his direction, inviting him to speak.

"Six and I are going to take Inuyasha's body." He didn't say where. The Hand still hadn't discovered Aikomi's existence, and he wanted to keep it that way.

She nodded. "I'll get them out." Gesturing toward Kagome and the teenaged clone, she continued, "Hannibal says that there are military 'copters around. We shouldn't run into any problems."

He stepped toward the bed. Shippo rose, after brushing hair out of the girl's eyes, and joined Six at the other side of the room. Evidently Inuyasha had acquired another pallbearer. He pushed that thought away as well.

The Higurashi woman looked up at him with frank, clear eyes. He hesitated briefly before bending to scoop Inuyasha's limp frame over his shoulder. For anyone else, maneuvering the half-demon into such a position would have been difficult with one arm. He didn't even think about the complex movements anymore.

The girl kept her calm gaze on him, and for a moment, he allowed himself to look back. Neither said anything, but nothing needed to be said. Regrets and promises were foolish; neither would further their goals. All they shared in that moment was an understanding that this particular battle had gone south, and that neither intended to be kept down by it for long. He went to stand with Shippo and his half-brother's clone.

The kitsune transformed and Six mounted the massive fox, and the four men took to the skies.

The three remaining somberly watched them go.

"It's not a fucking funeral procession," Hannibal noted scathingly after a few minutes. "Let's get out of here already."

"Watch your mouth," Kagome told him absently, still staring at the empty space Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru had vacated.

"My nose gets in the way." He hopped off of his chair. "Besides, we really need to go. With all the fuss, I had enough time to activate the real self-destruct sequence." He grinned maliciously. "So let's get moving."

Holden stared at him in shock for a moment, and then grinned herself. "You're a useful little person to have around, aren't you?"

He scowled, and Kagome smiled a little at the interplay between the two.

"Come on, old lady, or I'm gonna leave you here."

They traversed the corridors in short order, with Hannibal guiding them toward the hanger bay. No one said anything; neither Hannibal nor Holden were particularly chatty people, and Kagome was fully occupied by her own thoughts.

As they ventured through the abandoned base, they passed several corridors full of mangled bodies – probably Goliath's handiwork. A wash of regret swept over her, for the necessity of the deaths, for the loss of the giant. Hannibal seemed to be alright, but if he was as much like Inuyasha as she believed him to be, he was aching inside. But he wouldn't trust her with that. Not yet.

Another strange sensation arose, somewhere deep in her belly. Something was off, incorrect, out-of-place. She couldn't describe it to herself exactly as she felt it. It was just… wrong. Not dangerously so, not suspiciously so. Just not right. Her leaving this place seemed like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, but was so close that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference until someone handed you the right one. The closer they came to the hanger bay, the more pronounced the feeling of wrongness became.

Her steps slowed, and she was soon several paces behind the half-demon and the pseudo-guardian.

"Pick up the pace, won't you?" Hannibal groused.

"Kagome, dear?" The British lady turned to look at her.

She blinked a few times, growing more certain of herself. "I still have something I need to do here. I'm sorry." She turned and began to run in the opposite direction, somehow knowing exactly where she needed to go. Every injury had disappeared; even the gunshot wounds had completely closed, and it seemed as if her feet had wings, she moved so quickly.

Hannibal made a sound suspiciously like a aggravated puppy's yip and headed after her, followed closely by Holden.

Somewhere in this base, somewhere there was something she had to do. Something, something. She didn't know. But she knew she was going in the right direction, and she knew that she couldn't leave until whatever it was that was wrong had been righted. She came to a metal door, one that had been electronically sealed. She needed in there.

"You do realize we've got about six minutes to get the hell out of here, right?" Hannibal caught her shoulder, she wrenched away.

"I have to get in here." She felt along the cold metal planes of the door.

"Kagome, we have to go." Holden's doe-like eyes regarded her frankly. "We simply don't have time for this."

"I'm sorry. Go, if you need to. There's just something I have to do."

"Tell me, Kagome. Maybe I can help." Holden sighed with resignation.

"Yeah, right," Hannibal snorted. He fiddled with the electronic keypad on the side of the door. "There."

The portal slid open with a whirr. Kagome was inside before the door had completely opened. It wasn't a large room, but the far wall was covered in shining squares, each with little round locks in the center, like the safety deposit box vault of a bank. Automatically Kagome knew which box she needed.

She crossed the room in short order, and knelt to touch the second to last box on the third row from the right. "This one."

Hannibal exhaled sharply with exasperation. "You do realize that a physical lock is harder for me to break into than an electronic one, don't you?"

Holden smiled and balled up her fists, but Kagome beat her to it. Her arm, so lately dislocated, bloodied, and painful, crashed through the locker to the left of the one she wanted. It briefly occurred to her to be surprised at her own strength, but the voice in her head reminded her that she didn't have time to be stunned. She dragged the whole of box she wanted – still locked and sealed – from its resting place.

Hannibal blinked. "I guess I could have done it that way."

Holden laughed, and the rich, dark sound echoed weirdly in the shining metal room. "You were actually going to try to pick the lock, dearling?"

He flushed in affirmation. Kagome clutched the heavy metal box to her chest, but managed a smile. Maybe he was less like Inuyasha than she had believed.

"Three and a half minutes, you two," he reminded them hastily, and snagged the heavy box from Kagome before he took off running. To Kagome's surprise, she and Holden had no trouble keeping up with him, and if he wasn't quite as fast as Inuyasha, he was only because he was a good deal shorter than his progenitor.

They made it to the hanger bay with just over a minute to spare. Evidently the idea that their helicopters might be stolen had never occurred to the Hand; the passcodes that allowed ignition and opened the hanger doors were neatly printed and taped to the window of the small office attached to the bay. Six punched in a series of numbers, and a segmented, retractable roof peeled backward overhead. Holden stripped the rest of the codes and yanked open the door of the nearest helicopter.

"Off we go, children."

They were perhaps twenty feet above the open roof when the explosions began. The blonde woman with her surprising assortment of skills thrust the stick before her violently away as billowing clouds of debris, fire, and smoke chased them away from the Bandiagara facility and its terrible memories.

Kagome shuddered when the black smoke overtook them, but though the explosion rocked the helicopter precariously, Holden was obviously a talented pilot, and she navigated her way through the plumes of smoke with ease. Before very long, they were moving rapidly over Mauritania and the Western Sahara, and had left the bleak escarpment behind.

"Alright, lady." Hannibal had drawn his clawed feet – which were surprisingly small – into the seat, and pulled one leg up to his chest, crossing the other underneath. "What was so damned important that you almost got us all killed for?"

"I have no idea," Kagome admitted. Now that the danger had passed, she was beginning to feel more like herself. The purple eyes that had seemed to influence her every perception, the quiet, assuring voice in her head, they were quickly fading. She was surprised to realize that, even so, she still seemed to be fairly calm. Wondering if it was her own general good spirits or a more subtle version of her dream keeping her sane, she looked across at the half-demon teen with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry I cut it so close."

"You should be." The words were delivered with a snap, but it didn't bother Kagome. She was used to harsh words from that mouth.

"Give it. I'll open it." Hannibal reached out a clawed hand for the box he'd given back to her when he'd climbed into the helicopter; she hesitated before shaking her head.

"I think I should open it. Later. I'm not sure why. I'm sorry," she apologized again.

He shrugged and withdrew his hand. "Yeah. Whatever."

"It's a kind of sixth sense, dear." Holden's voice floated back from the cockpit. "It's probably rather more pronounced in you because of the connection the unicorn obviously felt with you. If your instincts are telling you to wait, I'd listen to them."

Kagome set the steel chest onto the seat beside her and stared at it for a long while. She'd done exactly what she was supposed to do, and she wasn't sure why. Were demons like this? Did they just do things that they sensed needed to be done, without asking why or even caring about reasons? Or was that just a Guardian thing?

She felt for her injuries. All gone. Hannibal had changed her clothes after her… encounter… with Caradoc; there wasn't even any blood to show where the damage had been. And yet, she had been shot. She had been dying.

Her every bruise, scrape, and aching had vanished. Her shoulder didn't even hurt anymore.

And the box. She'd thrown a fist through a good centimeter of steel like it had no more substance than a cobweb. And as big as it was, it should have been a lot heavier than it felt. Not only that, but she'd kept pace with a half-demon, albeit a young one.

Hannibal had said that the infant was shielding her from the realities of her situation, but evidently the shock of her new body wasn't considered threatening. Maybe it was normal.

Though nothing felt normal right now.

The dreamy gauze that had swaddled her mind continued to fall away, and her brain began to chug away at the questions and possibilities. Vaguely aware that her responses weren't quite as extreme as they ought to have been, she murmured a quiet thanks to the soul she was now sharing her body with.

Inuyasha's soul had been sent to Purgatory. He'd waited for her, for five hundred years, trusting her to find and awaken him. And she'd watched, helpless, as an enemy he didn't even know he had had stripped away his new life, had destroyed what ought to have been a joyful reunion with the woman who loved him, a reconciliation with his elder brother, a surprising encounter with friends new and old.

Kagome rested her head wearily on her knees. Her body might be good as new, but her heart hung heavily in her breast. She had no doubts that they would find the lily crest. She'd seen enough of Hannibal to recognize Inuyasha's resolve, seen enough of Sesshoumaru and Holden to believe they were capable of taking the crest once Hannibal had located it. And she knew her own resolve, even as an ordinary human girl, had been extraordinary. No, she wasn't afraid of not being able to wake Inuyasha. That was just a matter of time.

It was what could happen after his awakening that frightened her.

She wasn't a virgin any longer.

She'd allowed someone else to use her body, a trade for her life, for Inuyasha's life. Would he understand that?

And if he did, could he also accept that she was pregnant with another's child?

He would have to, or there could be no future for them. She'd made a promise, though she couldn't remember if it had been spoken aloud or whispered in the black sleep that, without Caradoc, would have preceded her death. However it had come to pass, she felt sworn to protect the innocent she carried, and the oath echoed as deeply in her soul as did her promise to revive Inuyasha.

Kagome inhaled deeply, watching the now-sleeping Hannibal across the noisy helicopter's belly. She'd made her choice. She was prepared to live with the consequences.

ooooo

Sesshoumaru and Six returned home before Holden and the two the demon had left in her charge. Shippo had left them at the shrine, uncharacteristically somber. Six had remained within the crypt only long enough to ruffle Aikomi's hair, which Sesshoumaru had promptly smoothed as soon as Six was gone.

Sesshoumaru had retrieved Inuyasha's robes from the late Seven; before replacing Inuyasha in his burial chamber, he'd stripped the half-demon of his white hospital gown and returned the heirloom to its rightful owner. Now his half-brother lay beside his daughter on the stone bier of his crypt, his body curled around her much smaller one, connected by the robes fashioned from the fur of the fire-rat, their furry white ears, and the preservation pearl, which lay sandwiched between Inuyasha's right hand and Aikomi's left.

Alone in the quiet chamber, he felt no shame in dropping a soft kiss on both cold foreheads.

Sesshoumaru and Six made it back to Blackbourne Manor well before Holden and her charges. Holden had called to let him know that they had escaped safely, and that she was leaving the Hand helicopter with their people in Cairo. He told her to expect to stay the night in Egypt and that he'd send the jet for her.

Six vanished into his own rooms at the estate almost immediately to clean up; he hadn't wanted One to see him bloodied and ragged. One smelled their return, and nearly tackled Sesshoumaru in his haste to greet the demon lord.

"Sesshu!" he trilled happily, swarming up into Sesshoumaru's arm. Sesshoumaru couldn't quite bring himself to scowl at the happy child, despite the nickname. Nor could he bring himself to put the child down. So he carried One into his study, and seated himself beside his cheerfully burning fire, settling the little clone on his lap.

"I used Tensaiga just like you told me to, Sesshu," One said proudly, looking at the fire. "Everybody that got killed is okay now." Sesshoumaru hesitated only briefly before lowering his hand to the boy's head and ruffling the hair around his ears.

After Tensaiga's failure to resurrect his wife and daughter, Sesshoumaru hadn't been able to touch the sword for years. Even now he disliked the feel of it in his hands, and ever since he'd discovered that Holden's pseudo-guardian status allowed her to use the healing properties of blade, he'd mostly left this kind of thing to her. And to Six and One, more recently.

Still, there were the Geneva casualties to be dealt with. Six probably wasn't up to another long journey, and Holden was still in Africa. One obviously couldn't be sent alone, so he was going to have to take care of them himself. He grimaced inwardly. Those individuals had probably already been taken to the morgue for autopsies. Which meant they were all going to have to be issued new, forged identification. He mentally added up the hours in his head since the invasion of his home. He wanted to get there well before they started cremating bodies, so he was going to have to get moving.

He sat by his fire only a moment to collect his thoughts before taking One to Six's chambers. Six opened the door, smelling of soap and shampoo, and not at all like blood or battle. One immediately attached himself to the "older" clone, and demanded proof that he was alright.

Six's lopsided smile of an answer didn't quite reach his eyes, and Sesshoumaru made a mental note to keep an eye on him over the next few weeks. Then he headed into the morning sun.

Flights like this one always provided him with ample time to think. It was always, always quiet, unless he chanced upon a passing plane. Over the years he'd become accustomed to the usual flight paths, and he rarely encountered them anymore.

He'd done what he could for Inuyasha, considering the circumstances. For now, the half-demon, like Aikomi, was safe. A number of new enchantments had been placed around the crypt when he'd hidden Aikomi there; he was completely confident that the Hand could not enter the shrine where his half-demons lay buried. There was the matter of the lily crest which demanded his attention; however, it was a matter that had been foremost in his mind for several hundred years now, and it could be easily set aside.

Next on his list of things to ruminate over: the girl. She'd surprised him, and Sesshoumaru was rarely surprised by anything. Holden didn't know, but he'd encountered Five – no, Goliath – once before, and found him to be a singularly nasty individual, cruel and sadistic. There had been a time that Sesshoumaru killed those who got in his way out of sheer indifference; he'd never gloried in blood like Inuyasha's fifth clone. But the young one, Hannibal, seemed to have an entirely different opinion, and, after all, he'd died protecting the girl. Perhaps Inuyasha's memory had still lived on in that giant, violent counterfeit?

Perhaps. But Sesshoumaru was beginning to think it was the girl herself. Something about her was unusual, extremely so. There was a purity, an honesty about her that he'd never encountered before. He'd never met anyone quite so unselfconsciously kind-hearted – although Six ran a close second. And yet, if she was tender-hearted, she was also strong. In her own way, her determination to succeed rivaled Inuyasha's incredible resolve, or his own dedication. Her generous heart seemed at odds with her iron will; it was paradoxical, and he simply could not understand it.

But he was beginning to appreciate it. She'd begun to earn his trust, and his respect, and he bestowed neither lightly. It occurred to him that when Inuyasha awoke, his quick temper and his quicker mouth were liable to hurt her before he fully understood what she had done for him; in the back of his mind he began to devise a means to prevent that occurring.

For the moment, however, she seemed to be doing alright. Holden had glossed through a lot of it, but he'd gathered the impression that the unicorn she bore was holding her together after the traumatic strains of the past few weeks. So he could move on to thinking about other things.

Immediate threats dispelled, uncomfortably raw feelings blunted, general plans set out, Sesshoumaru gave himself leave to consider something that had been bothering him since Seven's last stand.

He didn't know a great deal about Six and Seven's history. Despite his open manner and easy charm, Six didn't actually reveal a lot of his past. What little he had offered was grim.

Evidently Six and Seven had been very close at the beginning. Nearly full-grown when they acquired consciousness, they'd learned quickly. Everything they did and everything that befell them was a shared experience, perhaps like that of true twins.

Like true twins, one had assumed a dominant role – that had been Seven. He was more aggressive, more ambitious. And as fervently as he protected his beliefs at the end of his life, he had protected Six at its beginning. If Six failed at a lesson, Seven willingly took the punishment. If Six were falling behind, he exhorted him to greater heights. He was his encourager, his critic, his guardian. And Six had quickly learned to imitate that role with One, the only one of the clones that still remained at the Bandiagara facility.

Unfortunately for Six, maintaining that role had brought him into conflict with his protector, his brother, his only friend, when the Hand decided to rid itself of One. Standing with One meant standing against the Hand, and against the one person who had always cared for him. Doing so must have made him feel like a traitor.

In fact, Sesshoumaru remembered, Seven had accused him of being a traitor. worthless traitor, in fact. And Six hadn't denied it. In fact, he'd coolly accepted it.

That was disturbing. As Sesshoumaru approached Switzerland, he considered their final contest, in hopes of acquiring some new insight into the problem.

_"Six."_

_"It's been awhile, Seven."_

_"Not long enough, you worthless traitor."_

_"Yes, I suppose. But I had rather be a worthless traitor than a damned fool."_

_"_I_ am a servant of _God_!"_

_"You're a damned fool. And you have a very great deal to answer for."_

_Two identical faces searched one another, and found nothing at all familiar there. Seven's eyes were mad with the light of religion; Six was uncharacteristically icy and unreadable. Seven's hair spilled unbound and wild well past his shoulders; Six's neat, short cut had survived the day with a minimum of muss. Seven's stolen robes were out of place, a pitiful attempt to claim some identity from the frozen figure within the compound beyond; Six's heavy leathers weren't unlike Sesshoumaru's 'working clothes.'_

Sesshoumaru almost lost his balance in the air. Was that it? Had Six found someone else to imitate? There should have been regret there – this was Six, after all, gentle, kind-hearted Six. He wasn't especially talkative about his past, but he seldom hid his emotions, and Sesshoumaru knew him well enough to know that this encounter was painful for him. Could it be that the submissive twin had found another dominant nature to imitate?

_Seven moved first. Of course he did. Six would never instigate a fight, even when he knew it was inevitable. He immediately responded, with a technical skill that impressed Sesshoumaru, a feint to the left, and a following blow from the right. Right from the beginning, Six was in control of the contest, because Seven's rage blinded him to his brother's meticulous attacks._

_Seven threw a heavy handed claw at Six's shoulder; Six anticipated it and neatly sidestepped the attack, quickly maneuvering behind Seven to rake his own claws along the side of Seven's neck, one of the few areas not protected by the robe of the fire-rat. Thick rivulets of blood formed under the surgically precise blow, and Six stepped back, waiting for Seven to come to him. _

_Seven whirled on his attacker, charged him. Six promptly fell to his knees, something Sesshoumaru never would have dreamed of doing, and looped a claw through the belt tied around the kimono. A quick tug pulled it free, leaving the haori hanging open. Seven howled in fury at the insult and brought both fists down toward Six's head. With minimal movement, Six dropped his head to the side, neatly avoiding the blows. One hand snaked up to grasp Seven's wrist; Six shot to his feet and twisted Seven's arm painfully behind him. Sesshoumaru almost would have criticized this childish strategy, until he realized exactly what Six was trying to do. Within seconds, Six had slid a hand down the back of the now-bloody haori, released the pinned arm, and swept the sleeve off before Seven could bring his arm back in front of his body. So doing, he quickly positioned himself in front of Seven and began a series of lightning fast attacks at the now vulnerable chest area, rending the white cloth like paper and gouging deep gashes into the flesh beneath. In moments Seven's chest was a mass of bloody hash marks._

_In order to respond with the quickness Six's attacks necessitated, Seven had to shed the robe entirely, leaving himself exposed all over. So doing, he cast a well-placed claw at Six's throat after feinting left; Six avoided it, but only just. The claws scraped his shoulder rather than his neck. He leapt back several paces, waiting once more for Seven to come to him._

_A cold little smile came to his face. "Not having much luck, are you, Seven?"_

"_Bastard!" Seven ground out. Blood poured heavily from his neck and chest. He charged again. Again Six sidestepped, maneuvering himself behind his opponent. Two quick blows landed in succession across Seven's back, but Six had become overconfident. Seven fell to his knees, as Six had, turned, and rose with incredible speed, throwing a vicious uppercut to Six's jaw. The blow sent him back several meters, disorienting him for just a moment._

_The moment was enough. Seven splayed his claws wide and flung Sankon Tesso at the reeling Six. Sesshoumaru hadn't known that the clones knew that attack; he watched Six closely to see how he responded. It secretly pleased him when Six automatically reached for the blood Seven had drawn and released Hijin Kesso. Now Seven was forced back; Six took full advantage of the opening and charged himself._

_His right claws sank deeply into the already bloodied chest. They sank even further into Seven's now-unprotected belly, and he shoved his hand inward further still, until the whole of his hand and wrist were submerged in Seven's flesh, before he followed through on the arcing strike. Something flashed in Six's eyes, but passed too quickly for Sesshoumaru to identify it. When Six's claws exited Seven's body, they brought more than blood with them. A lot more._

_A new scent began to form on the air, and Sesshoumaru quickly moved forward to cut it off. Shippo held him back – or rather, Sesshoumaru reluctantly permitted himself to be restrained._

_Seven looked up, and the fire of religion had faded in the red depths of demon eyes, and only the passion for blood fueled him now. He leapt high, easily twenty meters, and descended claws first from the sky. _

_Six quickly changed his strategy, recognizing the change. Always his techniques were a little on the defensive side, he now threw all his efforts into keeping the crazed demon at bay. If his earlier attack had been less effective, he probably wouldn't have been able to stave off the furious, if unfocused assault._

_But after Six's deadly blow, there was simply nothing left for the enraged demon to work with. Too much had been lost. The attacks soon slowed. Finally, the madness left Seven, and he stood, swaying precariously, before the person he had once protected._

_A trembling hand reached futilely to stem the flowing tide of blood at his belly; an equally tremulous smile touched the now-calm face._

"_I suppose… you never really… needed me… after all… did you, Six? I… I knew, always… that you could… be more. I just… I thought… we would get there… together." He collapsed, scarcely breathing. "Burn in hell… brother."_

After a quick, surreptitious examination of Six for injuries, Sesshoumaru turned and left the dead half-breed behind, expecting Six to follow him. And he did – after Sesshoumaru caught his quietly murmured response to Seven's last words.

"I'll see you there, brother."

Those parting words concerned Sesshoumaru. Six obviously felt as though he'd done something wrong, but so far as Sesshoumaru could see, Seven hadn't left him many choices. He'd attacked Blackbourne Estate and everyone within, he'd killed Goliath and very nearly killed Higurashi, and he had exorcised Inuyasha's soul. Fanaticism didn't stop when it failed. Seven wouldn't have stopped. Six had to know that.

The other thing that bothered him was that he obviously hadn't been meant to hear those words. And yet, Six wasn't the kind of person who hid his feelings. His openness had taken Sesshoumaru aback at first, because it was so different from Inuyasha's manner, but he'd come to expect it, and even to welcome the honesty with which Six regarded himself. It wasn't that he was especially sensitive, but if he felt something, he always seemed to find it justified, and was unashamed of having felt it. That took a supreme self-confidence, and Sesshoumaru respected it. It troubled him that Six seemed to wish to conceal his regrets concerning Seven. It was out of character.

He frowned slightly as Geneva came into view. Had the half-demon begun to model himself after Sesshoumaru? He didn't really think that was the case, he certainly hoped it wasn't, but he wasn't sure how to explain this new anxiety in Six otherwise.

Six's false smile back at the manor interjected itself into his thoughts, and his frown deepened as he swept down into the ancient city, searching out the smells of his slaughtered people. Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would deal with his troubled little family; with Holden's aid, he would familiarize himself with the girl and her new set of problems, would confront Six about his inexplicable new diffidence. He would acquaint himself with this newest clone, the brilliant, acerbic Hannibal. One… was One alright? How badly had the attack shaken his confidence?

Sesshoumaru's face hardened as he landed on Geneva's streets outside the hospital morgue, where his people were being held in chilled metal boxes, awaiting shipment to the crime lab. He'd been defeated this once. But Sesshoumaru was a master at this game. A defeat simply indicated that it was time to recoup, to reflect, to fix the flaws that had permitted the setback. Once he had stabilized his family, he would get to work on his organization. And once that had been improved, the search for the lily crest would be resumed.

But first things first. He hoped there were no troublesome police officers guarding the victims, though he could bring them down without killing them, if they proved to be a menace.

Even so, Sesshoumaru had no desire for more violence today.


	17. Epiphanies

As always, Inuyasha doesn't belong to me.

I do apologize for the long wait this time; I graduated in May and at the moment I'm working two jobs and trying to plan a wedding at the same time, and it doesn't leave much time for Kags, Sesshu, and the family. I hope you were wondering just what Kagome had to have in that steel box, and I hope it's contents aren't too predictable. I needed some sunshine after losing Inuyasha... again; this is how I got it. Plus, I hadn't really gotten to talk to Six or One in a long time, and I thought they needed an appearance. Everyone's slowly recovering from the Bandiagara fiasco, and pretty soon it'll have to get thick and hard and fast again. But here's a little silver lining, even though it starts off sorta dark. I hope you enjoy it.

Epiphanies

Kagome was tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, she had nothing left. So she slept.

She scarcely registered the return to Blackbourne Estate. The last clear thought that passed through her mind before weariness overcame her was that she had been mistaken about Hannibal. In the helicopter, he had appeared to be soundly asleep, but like Inuyasha, he'd managed to close his eyes against the horrors of the day without truly sleeping; just as she sank into the woolly comfort of near-sleep, she'd seen slits of green flashing beneath his nearly closed eyelids, watching her.

She remembered nothing of Cairo. Vague images of the long plane ride back to London dogged her foggy brain, but she paid them little mind. Mostly her wisps of memory were unpleasant, and she pushed them away as best she could. She did manage to stumble into the bathroom attached to the frilly white room that had somehow become hers, and to brush her teeth and bathe. Even that made little impression on her exhausted wits. Unable to remember the last time she'd eaten, she nonetheless shunned food in favor of more sleep, and for two full days, including the night spent in Egypt, Kagome slept.

It was evening when her consciousness finally reasserted itself. She got out of bed by measures, and with each step, the reality of her situation and the actions thus necessitated became clearer. First she propped herself up on her elbows and stared at the door as if she believed someone were coming to wake her. Then she sat upright, then pushed the covers away. Throwing her feet over the edge of the tall bed, she hesitated before sliding off the mattress to place them on the floor. She looked back at her pillow.

It would be easier just to go back to sleep.

But she heard One down the hallway, heard Six shushing him – quite loudly. She heard Holden chiding them both. Instinctively she knew Hannibal was not with them; the interactions of the two clones and Holden were simply too relaxed to admit the presence of a stranger. Her responsibilities began to catch up with her, and she planted both feet firmly on the ground.

She spent the next hour in the bathroom. Forty-five minutes of steamy water and the comfort of a powerful hairdryer in her hand gave her the opportunity to reacquaint herself with the real world.

Kagome felt as though she had been handed hell in a hand basket – but at least she felt like herself now. The raw pleasure of a hot shower and her own fussy lament over the lack of a round boar-bristle brush reassured her. Her circumstances had changed, yes; she had new abilities, new allies, and most frighteningly, new problems. But if she could enjoy the feel of the ergonomic grip of an expensive hairdryer, something of Kagome Higurashi was still around.

And Kagome Higurashi, gullible, vulnerable, headstrong Kagome Higurashi was nothing if not an optimist. If an appreciation for fine hairstyling products persisted, so could that hopeful perspective.

Inuyasha probably wouldn't have understood her sudden shift in perspective – a hairdryer simply couldn't have meant the same thing to the belligerent half-demon that it meant to the once-upon-a-time priestess and the current mother-to-be. But for her, it was enough of an epiphany to begin to anticipate the coming adventure and to lay aside her wounds from the struggle that lay behind.

She'd dressed herself and made it half-way out her door before remembering the steel case she'd felt compelled to bring with her. Even now, she couldn't explain the feeling that had gripped her, that had forced her to locate and retrieve the lockbox.

It stood, unopened still, in the corner of her room; Holden or Hannibal had evidently communicated her wish to open the box herself. As she neared the box, the same sense of immediacy that had seized her at the Bandiagara facility struck her again, and with it the certainty that whatever lay within its steel confines was vitally important.

She knew better than to hope for the lily crest. Even her astounding ability to find the good in a situation could not muster support enough for that notion.

Carefully settling the box on her bed, she fumbled with the lock for a moment. It was a combination lock, and as she turned the dial, she heard a click. She smiled a little. Superpowers had their perks.

She turned the lock the usual right-left-right, and to her satisfaction it gave easily. The hinged front fell open, revealing a black foam form within, like packing foam. Frowning, Kagome slipped her fingers around the edges of the dense foam and tugged. The foam rectangle slid free of its box.

What lay nestled in the foam caused Kagome to gag. Then she wept.

And when she had dried her tears, she slid the foam and what it contained back into the case, and relocked the strongbox before hiding it beneath one of the easy chairs.

Then she went looking for Sesshoumaru.

* * *

Sesshoumaru's second favorite place at Blackbourne Estate was the Japanese garden attached to his seldom-used bedroom. It was filled with flowering trees and artful little reflecting pools, and never was there a time when something wasn't in bloom. In the corner, a beautiful miniature shrine served to house the infrequent teas he held for Holden, and now for Six and One as well. Holden had designed the garden in the 1870s, and everything within it, and though she'd left the pools and the trees to professionals, she personally planted annuals in it every season. If his study was the most comfortable place in Blackbourne, this was the most beautiful. 

It was fall now, and the foliage – all but the purple leaves of his Japanese maples – had begun their journey through the spectrum. So many seasons had turned here, in this garden. It wore heavily on him to imagine how many more might pass before his vows would be fulfilled.

He'd returned from Geneva not long after he'd arrived there. Tensaiga was truly a fearsome sword; in moments twenty-four dead men and women awoke to live again. Two did not; as he knew all too well, Tensaiga would not work a second time. But he had retrieved their bodily remains and returned them to the families that would miss them. Soon he would send Holden to rewrite the lives of his resurrected personnel, to issue new documentation to them. He couldn't say why he hadn't already. He knew, of course, which was why he was standing in this garden in the first place. But he couldn't say.

Sesshoumaru found his image in the darkening water of one of the larger reflecting pools, and was studying its unchanged appearance when he felt an vaguely familiar presence approach the gate. It was the woman, Inuyasha's woman. And something terrible boiled within her. He turned to her.

"Sesshoumaru."

Her eyes looked like Holden's after every Hand atrocity they'd picked up after, hard and blazing and completely, completely unforgiving. The salt of dried tears assaulted his nose, but there were no tears now.

"Come with me."

No one but Holden had ever ordered him to do anything, but he didn't protest. Whatever had upset her had been monstrous; nitpicking over courtesy would have been petty.

He followed her back to the white room with the fireplace where he'd first deposited her after their meeting in Inuyasha's tomb. She wordlessly retrieved the metal box Holden had asked him not to tamper with and deftly turned the lock. Sliding black packing foam from the case, she stepped back to allow him to view what the case had concealed.

"Can you fix this?" The girl stood at the closed door, staring at him, daring him to tell her no.

He nodded, scarcely breathing.

It was unbelievable. A hundred times, a thousand times he'd imagined this moment, imagined what would happen, if only. It had never been a real goal, of course; there was simply no way for him to have known, for anyone to have known the Hand was so fucking anal. So it had always been just a misty dream, one he indulged in only because it relieved his mind of its many burdens. For it to be real was inconceivable.

"Then do it!" A strangled cry returned him to the white room, and he recognized the hysteria that threatened to claim the young woman by the door. Sesshoumaru calmly slid the foam back into its casing.

"Soon." Grey-blue eyes gauged him, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Evidently finding her own sense of urgency reflected in the eyes she judged, she nodded.

It took four hours for Holden to pack and get on her way to Geneva. Those hours ranked among the longest of Sesshoumaru's life, surpassed only by those endless, empty hours after Rin's death. But it had to be perfect, absolutely perfect, because in the strained hell that had been their life together, so few things ever had been. Because his one fantasy, the only castle-in-the-sky fancy he'd ever permitted himself to indulge, finally, truly, impossibly was going to become a reality.

He spent the week of her absence in a flurry of activity. First things came first, of course; he dealt with the contents of the steel chest, and left them in the girl's care, much to her chagrin. But her initial discontent was soon relieved by her own growing involvement with what had been left in her charge and by the happy tasks Sesshoumaru required of her. The amused quirk of a smile that accompanied the fulfillment of those tasks should have deeply offended the demon lord; he instead found himself biting his lips against an answering smile.

The space he chose to host his grand dream was ideal, filled with windows and light, near to his own chambers and adjacent to Holden's. He spared no expense in setting the stage; the finest muralist in France was called in to create a masterpiece in two days time. When the haughty little man finished, a breathtaking landscape of green meadows and rippling brooks enveloped the room. From there, he relied mostly on the girl and her instincts; the result was far more welcoming than anything professional decorators had designed in his home.

The furniture was simple, but accented with subdued carvings, and was painted a muted dark green that neatly complemented the lighter hues of the walls. Pale yellow curtains hung at the windows, drawn back to allow the autumn light to flood the space, and the upholstery in the room echoed the subtle yellows and greens of the landscape. Soft brown carpeting replaced hardwood floors, its color picked up in the wood of painted trees. In once corner, an antique bentwood rocker sat bathed in sunlight, facing the premier attraction of the room.

Sesshoumaru had never seen one that was round; but it was unique and unusual, and Holden would love it. Painted the same soft green as the rest of the furniture, it dominated the space with its large, simple canopy of yellow and green, its many distinctive pillows and fabrics, and its perfect symmetry. In short, it was a beautiful crib, set in a beautiful nursery, for a beautiful baby boy.

Six and One were thrilled – horrified, at first, as the girl had been, but their outrage only lasted until the first wail indicated the presence of a new member of the family. Afterward, they were far too busy doting on the unusual little creature to concern themselves with his ugly past. Sesshoumaru himself was intrigued by the child, with its striated, curving horns and tiny cloven hooves, and found himself spending hours in its company, watching it sleep. The infant truly cried only the once, immediately after Tensaiga swept through its yellowed bones, and seldom afterward, except to announce that it desired something, and then only until its need was met.

The Higurashi girl was quite taken with it, after the shock had passed, but unlike Six and One, something dark remained within her even after the child had wound itself around her heart. The indignity of the steel coffin and what it represented abided with her. Why the Hand had chosen to keep the bones of its slaughtered victims was a mystery, and the truth of the matter could only be ugly and painful. He was pleased with the outcome, pleased and more than pleased – but Holden's epiphany child had been ignobly interred with its murderers for four hundred odd years, and that sat ill with him. That the girl recognized and felt that same black revulsion surprised and gratified him.

Inuyasha's choice in his companion revealed unaccountable good judgment. And that also surprised and pleased him.

* * *

Kagome hadn't felt so at peace since before the well had closed – barring the unnatural, dreamlike suppression Caradoc's compassion had granted her, of course. This peace felt real, felt right, and she was grateful to the infant within her and to the infant in her arms for the change. Because of them, something indefinable but fundamental had changed in her perspective of herself and of her new companions. Caradoc's child granted her the strength she needed to carry on in the wake of a cutting defeat. Holden's little boy gave her the clarity she needed to truly see Sesshoumaru, freed of the blinders of past experience. And, having fought as many battles as she had with her friends in the feudal era, she knew that true-sight could be the difference between the next battle ending in victory or in defeat. 

"_Then do it!" She felt as though she would strangle on the words. Damn him, damn him to hell, damn him and his calm demeanor in the face of such barbarism. The hoarding of a body, a child's body for… for what? Did it matter? No, no, it was profane, wicked and foul, and he stood there cold and unmoved. _

"_Soon." Like a cold wind, the threat in his voice descended, chilling every bone in her body, freezing her rising hysteria. He turned cold eyes upon her, icy, unforgiving eyes, and she was suddenly profoundly thankful that she was not responsible for the sacrilege in the steel coffin. Unmoved? Oh, no. Reflective, controlled, far, far more controlled than she. But not unmoved. There was more there, as well, something she couldn't name until later, until she'd understood the reasoning, the great necessity, behind the delay._

"_Come with me. Say nothing." He swept away, as he always did, with great drama and ceremony, theatricality that would have been laughable in a lesser man. She followed him cautiously, mistrustfully. Moved or unmoved, he had chosen to conceal the body of Holden's long-murdered son from his supposed friend and companion, and she could not trust someone who would do such a thing._

"_Holden," he said, coming upon the slight figure in the kitchen. She drank coffee only after dark, always strong and black and laced with brandy and always at the kitchen bar, always from the chipped blue mug. She called it her guilty pleasure. _

"_Our operatives in Geneva require new identities."_

_The prim blonde looked up from the lipstick-stained mug, suspicious. "Tonight?"_

"_It should have been done before."_

"_I'll pack." No questions. No argument. Perfect acceptance that it was her responsibility to take care of their agents, absolute trust that his conclusion was the correct one, that if she had all the information, she would have done the same. Perhaps four or five hundred years of living together made them think alike, or perhaps she simply trusted and respected his judgment that much. Within a few hours, she left, and the moment she did, Sesshoumaru returned to the chic white chamber that had somehow become Kagome's._

_He had no patience for the lock; he struck it aside, seeming almost unaware of the girl who stood beside him, and it spun across the room violently; the emotionality of the gesture stunning and bewilderingly inappropriate from the painfully stoic Sesshoumaru._

_A thousand thoughts raced through his eyes, jumped along the muscles in his jaw, and she never would have seen them before. But there was that unmistakable icy fury, and there was wonder and there was passion, genuine passion, something painful and beautiful and sincere, and he raised Tensaiga with narrowed eyes and an unspoken promise; he brought it down and revived her hope. _

In that moment, in that instant he'd played God and cheated death, she'd shared something with the demon, felt something of the resolve he'd harbored for so many years, recognized her own passion and will within another. In the days that followed, the demon lord became almost human in his frantic quest to complete his gift to Holden, the space in his home, in their home, that admitted this part of her into his heart. The aura of severity and supremacy that had always surrounded him had been dissolved. He had always demanded, would always demand respect, and perhaps even deference, but she saw now what Holden had seen for centuries, and what One had seen from the beginning.

A man. A powerful man, to be sure, a dominating presence and a deadly enemy or ally – but a man nonetheless, a man with fears and needs and desires, who revered some things as sacred and held others dear. Returning this child to its mother, a woman he desired and would not allow himself to have, a woman who belonged to him, but whom he could not claim, a woman he loved, but couldn't tell – this was one of those sacrosanct, precious things, and Kagome felt queerly but supremely honored to be allowed to participate.

The roomful of light that she'd ensconced herself in with Holden's baby boy was the result, and she was proud of it. Demon lords, even devilishly stylish demon lords know nothing about nurseries, and it had both humbled and charmed Kagome to see the rare glimpses of uncertainty and confusion the ordeal precipitated. Gathering rather quickly that he hadn't dealt with the more mundane aspects of childrearing with his own daughter, she'd had to explain the concept of a changing table, much to her amusement and his embarrassment. He more or less left the furnishing of the room to her after that. He'd allowed her pretty much free reign; however, he insisted on the bulky, round crib that adorned the center of the room. Well, insisted as only Sesshoumaru could insist; he said it would be so, and it was. He'd refuted her choice of carpet as well, pointing out that something softer in texture would be more inviting to a barefooted mother in the middle of the night, an observation which tickled her, and she barely managed to concede the point without laughing at the unwittingly sweet remark.

It hadn't been easy to pull together the nursery while simultaneously discovering the ins and outs of caring for a half-goat, half-human child. Six proved only too happy to do whatever he could to help out, whether it was hanging curtains or changing diapers, and he did both as he did everything, extremely well and with a smile. One was fascinated by the baby's horns and hooves and couldn't get over how similar they were in their partly-animal appearances, even though he was a half-demon and the baby was a full demon.

Hannibal had been reluctantly, but invaluably, helpful; what he knew and what he'd surmised about single-sex demon children, combined with his unfathomable abilities to navigate the internet, made him indispensable. Kagome was glad of the usefulness of his unique skills for another reason: it kept him close to her.

Even now, as she sat in the bentwood rocker, nearly ready to put the baby to bed – Holden would be returning in only twelve hours – he sat beneath one of the windows, clicking away at a monster of a laptop.

"Hannibal?"

A grunt of acknowledgement.

"Wouldn't you like a pillow or something? You've been sitting there for hours."

"Don't need it." Click, click, click.

She gritted her teeth. Entirely too much like Inuyasha. "What are you doing there?"

"Stuff."

"Stuff as in playing around stuff, or researching stuff, or getting into stuff you shouldn't be getting into, or breaking in to Hand stuff – help me out here, won't you?"

"I said I'd help you find your damn crest, didn't I? How'm I supposed to do that if you won't shut up and let me look?" His voice, cracking on the verge of manhood, came out as an indignant whine, and he glared at her fiercely, as though the shrill notes had been her fault.

The baby in her arms stirred, and she glared back at the hunched over teen. "Wake this kid up, buster, and you get to spend the next two hours rocking him back to sleep, you got it?" She continued to rock gently, and the baby settled down. His curving little horns pressed uncomfortably against her ribcage, but she didn't dare move them. Although he didn't cry much, he absolutely insisted on being rocked to sleep, and if she tried to put him down before he'd fallen asleep rocking, he would cry until she picked him up again.

Hannibal harrumphed – quietly. She quirked a smile at him; he grimaced.

"Found anything interesting?"

"No, and I won't, if you don't shut up."

"That would be a lot more threatening if I didn't know how smart you are, and if I didn't think you could keep looking even with me distracting you."

"What makes you think that?" he asked, almost absently, face close to the monitor. Evidently something had caught his interest.

"Well, you managed to break the security of and blow up the Bandiagara facility, even with all the distractions that were going on. Surely research can't be more demanding that that." He stiffened. _Touchy stuff there._

Finding her opening, "You haven't spoken about what happened there at all, you know," Kagome said quietly.

"If I wanted to talk about it, I would," he snapped. A world of pain flashed in his eyes – Inuyasha was much, much better at hiding this kind of thing. It hurt that Hannibal wanted to be able to hide it, wanted desperately to be alone with his grief.

"No, you wouldn't," she replied frankly, in low tones. She closed her eyes, rocking, rocking. "You wouldn't, because it's weak, isn't it? It's childish and weak, and you don't want to be either. You can't afford to be. You'd have to be some kind of fool to let someone you didn't trust know how badly you hurt."

"I'm fine." The attempt at conviction in his voice broke her heart.

She sighed, careful not to disturb the infant faun in her arms. "You're not. But you will be. Because whatever else you may be, rude or mistrustful or bratty, you are strong. That I do believe." She smiled ruefully and turned affectionate eyes in his direction. He flushed under the unexpectedly kind gaze, and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

It was probably time to tell him; probably she should have told him a while ago. "It's okay to be careful. He wouldn't have wanted you to do anything stupid. But he wouldn't have wanted you to be alone either." She paused. "He made me promise to take care of you, you know."

She hadn't told him about Goliath's final charge to her; the revelation had the desired effect. His ugly snarl vanished into wide-eyed pain before he turned his face away. She drove it in relentlessly, needing to know he knew where he stood with her.

"You don't know me yet. That's fine. But you'll learn that I keep my promises, Hannibal. And whether you like it or not, whether you want my attention or care or not, you've got it, because I made a promise. You're going to get worried about, and fussed over, and probably yelled at from time to time, and if you ever walk away, I'll be right behind you. You're not going to be alone, because Goliath promised you that you wouldn't be, and I swore I'd help him keep that promise."

There was no answer for a long time. The clicking had stopped; the only sounds in the room were the vastly different breaths of three vastly different people, and the slight creak of the antique rocker.

The clicking resumed. "You're one crazy bitch, you know that."

"Watch your mouth."

A small smile. "My nose gets in the way."

She winked at him; the smile disappeared into a more familiar scowl. Rolling her eyes, Kagome stood, hoping the baby had finally gone to sleep. She wasn't really sure how she'd wound up being his primary caretaker while Holden was in Geneva, but it seemed to come naturally, and she found herself genuinely enjoying the moments she spent with Holden's son. She nuzzled at his horns and placed him carefully in his crib, and then she waited to see if he was really sleeping.

Evidently he was. Crooking a finger at Hannibal, she gestured toward the door. He snapped the laptop closed and followed her into the hall.

"Hungry?" she asked in normal tones, once the door was closed.

"Starving."

"Pizza?"

"Only if the brat doesn't get to order anchovies. That smell gets on everything." Hannibal shuddered, and she nodded sympathetically. With her new, heightened senses, the strong scent sent her head reeling, too. How One could stand the smell of anchovies was beyond her, the idea that he ate them made her nauseous.

"We'll get them separate."

He groaned, and she dropped a hand to ruffle his ears. "Poor baby." Growling, he shoved her away and hopped over the staircase railing to the floor below.

"Sausage and black olive!" he yelled up, and bounded out of sight.

Kagome sent a smile after him.

Six was in Sesshoumaru's study with One, so she headed there next.

"Hannibal and I want pizza."

"Extra cheese and anchovies and roasted red peppers!" One shouted gleefully and rushed at her. Six's answering groan was loud, but the little clone swarmed up into Kagome's arms and smiled beatifically. "Kagome always makes sure I get my anchovies."

"Unfortunately." Sesshoumaru stepped into the room, nose ever so slightly wrinkled at the thought the stench that would soon be wafting through his home.

She smiled, squeezing One until he squeaked in protest. "How about you, Six?"

"Not picky. As long as it doesn't smell like fish. Or have spicy peppers on it." He glowered fiercely at One, who grinned and snuggled more deeply into Kagome's arms. Letting out a sudden roar, he lunged at One and snatched him up, tickling him mercilessly. One howled with laughter, and Kagome couldn't help but laugh herself. Catching a glimpse at Sesshoumaru, who was watching the antics of the two clones expressionlessly, Kagome caught her lower lip between her teeth and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

"Would you like some?" Sesshoumaru turned to her, eyes just a bit wider than normal, surprised. Kagome smiled encouragingly.

"I don't…" He stopped short, casting a sidelong glance at the tickle-monster and his prey. "Sausage."

Her smile widened as he hesitated.

"With black olives."


	18. On Secrets

I'm sorry it's been so long -- thank you for your patience and I hope this post was worth the wait. As always, Miss Rumiko Takahashi owns Inuyasha and his friends.

**Concerning Secrets**

Holden returned to Blackbourne Estate eight days after she had left it. The whole morning of her arrival, Kagome had been hard-pressed to keep from laughing out loud at Sesshoumaru, whose cagey pacing in the nursery neatly demolished any remaining reservations she'd had about her new ally.

Hannibal hadn't her kind heart, and so he probably would have been subjected to the same kind of pounding Inuyasha had often perpetrated upon Shippo, had she not intervened. Fortunately for him, she saw the sly look slide into his eyes, the evil twist of a smile touch his mouth, and so she was quick to observe that his fly was unzipped and sent him glowering, red-faced, into the hall, before he could make whatever rude comment his brilliant mind had fashioned – and before he realized he was wearing lounge pants, which had no zipper to be open. All the while Sesshoumaru, oblivious, continued to pace, throwing a surreptitious gaze at the windows every now and again; more often, he looked at the squirming infant in Kagome's arms.

For his part, Sesshoumaru finally understood the meaning of the human phrase "nervous wreck." It had always seemed a ridiculous sort of thing to the demon lord, such idle worry over things that could not be changed or helped, and yet he was damn near sweating bullets over the whole situation.

What if she was unhappy he'd sent her away? What if she was unable to accept the baby, after years of learning to accept its death? She wouldn't abandon it, no; duty was duty, and she'd do what was necessary.

But the infant was her whole reason for having joined him in the first place, its death her drive for revenge and for redemption.

Having lost it, what if she left _him_?

It was foolish, absolutely foolish. He knew her better – he _knew_ her. She would be irritated – later – that he'd kept the baby from her for even a moment. But her aggravation with him would be so minute, so insignificant compared to the joy of the reunion, that she would scarcely acknowledge it.

At least, that was the scene that had played out in his head these hundreds of years. In his dreams, he was her savior, rather than that God she still prayed to. He would return her child to her, and she would be bound to him through it forever. Dammitall, that's how it was supposed to be.

But could that all be wishful thinking?

Maybe he was a fool and had misread her entirely.

Maybe she wouldn't want anything to do with him or his mission, having her own needs fulfilled. Maybe that's just how humans were, small and petty and self-absorbed. Even five hundred year old Guardians.

But Holden-Truelove?

"Sesshoumaru?" Kagome's voice jolted him out of his thoughts, and he stared at her a moment, trying to reorient himself.

"He's fussy. I think maybe he needs to be walked?"

Sesshoumaru blinked at her, not entirely certain why she thought he needed to be aware of that bit of trivia. Then he realized she was standing before him, offering him the baby.

He hesitated. There were very few things he wasn't confident doing one-handed, but holding infants was one of them. One was easy; if he'd ever done anything so inelegant as to drop the brat, the child would have simply latched onto some other part of Sesshoumaru and gotten himself safely to the ground. But a newborn?

Kagome smiled at him, and something in her smile was very warm and comfortable, not unlike Holden's more affectionate expressions. "Here."

She settled the baby securely into the crook of his arm, and, so repositioned, the child stopped its fretful whimpering and lay still in his arms as he continued his trek back and forth across the nursery. Looking down at the odd creature, he felt a curious wrench in his throat, and he suddenly found himself missing his lost appendage. The blanket the girl had wrapped the faun in was mussed, and he had a strange urge to tidy it. He resented the fact that he could not with a surprising ferocity.

A pair of tawny brown eyes, which had been regarding him almost thoughtfully, squinted shut, and a little red mouth gaped in a toothless yawn. Another curious emotion jerked at Sesshoumaru's soul, and he sat in the rocker Kagome had vacated, determined to adjust the faulty coverlet. Draping the faun across his knees, he was able to maneuver his hand out from under it and fix the offending crease in its covering.

"Oh." It was scarcely audible, but Sesshoumaru's sharp ears caught the sound, and his head snapped toward the door.

His first thought was an inarticulate sense of horror, and he almost leapt out of the embarrassingly feminine piece of furniture he was seated in.

His second was to realize that a very small person lay across his lap, and, if he were to stand up, it would surely fall.

His third was to wonder, seething, how the devil Higurashi had noticed Holden's arrival before he had, and why in hell she hadn't bothered to mention it.

* * *

Kagome sat poised precariously on the brick window sill outside the second-story nursery, just out of sight. Her scent shouldn't matter; it lingered still with the demon anyway, and he wasn't in any fit state to notice that it was stronger than it ought to have been. For all Kagome was a sweet girl, she could be meddlesome as well, particularly where matters of the heart were involved, and she desperately wanted this gift of Sesshoumaru's to play out well for him. So upon leaving the pacing demon with his uncomfortable burden of faun, she'd slipped out the door into the adjoining room that was Holden's. Evidently, the nursery had always been part of the suite of rooms belonging to the Guardian, though it had almost never been used. Pausing only briefly to admire the simple, classic elegance that defined Holden's – and Sesshoumaru's – taste, she clambered out the windows and onto the ledge, where she waited anxiously for Holden to make her appearance.

She stifled a crow of delighted laughter when the haughty, self-possessed demon lord settled himself into the green rocker to fuss with the baby's blanket. To top it all off, he'd just begun to rock, albeit a little awkwardly, when the mother of the baby in his arms stepped into the usually closed-off room.

Kagome's face fell. He looked horrified; at least, as horrified as someone with Sesshoumaru's great sense of dignity could look. Which was to say, his eyes went a little wide and he became a bit pale and seemed ever-so-slightly sickened. Holden… Holden didn't look like anything at all.

"Oh," she choked. "Oh."

For three solid minutes – Kagome counted them frantically on her watch – neither said a word. Sesshoumaru was the first to recover.

"Anastasius." He lifted the baby carefully into the crook of his arm, and only a slight tremor betrayed his nervousness at maneuvering the living thing safely. "If you don't mind a suggestion."

Holden regained a little color. "Greek," she answered, a little bizarrely, "meaning, 'resurrection.'"

Although Sesshoumaru's words hadn't made any sense to Kagome either, his voice had held a question; he wanted an answer, a reaction, and that he got. Holden's voice fell cold and flat on two pairs of ears, one curiously pointed, one concealed. Kagome winced, and though she could have imagined it, to her anxious eyes, it seemed as if Sesshoumaru wilted slightly.

He seemed as if he wanted to look away, but their eyes were locked in a strangely unfamiliar gaze. "Yes. But it's also – "

"Mine." The frozen composure on Holden's face cracked. "How…" she licked her lips uncertainly. "How long…?"

"Kagome's crate," he answered. It wasn't the appropriate response to the question 'how long,' and his voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

"You've known… since then?"

"Since the day you left." He managed to break eye contact long enough to cast his eyes about the room, and, finding her own eyes freed, Holden also looked about her.

She swallowed hard. Her rigid body began to quake; the icy expression melted a little more.

"Impossible," she muttered, clenching her fists. "Impossible."

Unable to contain himself, or possibly his fear, any longer, Sesshoumaru stepped toward her.

She took a step back, out of the nursery, and he froze.

"You… you hid it… him… from me?"

Sesshoumaru's arm unconsciously tightened around the now-stirring infant. "Yes." Something dangerous shivered in the air between them, and Kagome shivered with it.

"Because?"

"Because he was nothing but yellow bones until _I_ resurrected him," Sesshoumaru answered harshly, and his arm tightened further still, protectively. "Because there was no need for you to see him in such a state."

"No need?" She stared in disbelief, composure shattered by rage. "No _need_?" Her voice rose hysterically. "He's my son!"

"And _I_ – " Sesshoumaru cut off whatever he was going to say with difficulty, and tears stung Kagome's eyes. I what?

"I had no wish to subject you to unnecessary pain," he said after a moment.

The tension hung heavily, thick and pressing.

Holden stepped back into the room. Ignoring both Sesshoumaru and the impossibility he held, she moved about the nursery slowly, fingering the delicate drapes, running her hands along the back of the beautifully carved rocker, pausing to view the magnificent mural. She came to a halt before Sesshoumaru, and stared at him from across the crib.

"I'm not sure that ought to have been your decision," she said quietly, but her anger had faded into something more resigned, and Kagome and Sesshoumaru both relaxed slightly. "It wasn't for you to say what pain I should or should not feel concerning… my son." Her eyes dared him to deny it.

Which, being Sesshoumaru, he did. "Some things a man does not permit," he replied curtly.

Outside, Kagome bit a finger in frustration. Stupid, stupid dog.

"Some things aren't any of his business," Holden retorted, her anger on the rise again. But it was a safe anger, aggravation between two people who know and respect one another, and even Kagome could feel the difference in the atmosphere.

"I am not going to argue with you about it. What's done is done; I cannot undo it now. Even if I were inclined to do so."

Holden strode up to him purposefully, and the great demon lord shied away just a bit from her.

"You are the most arrogant, monomaniacal, presumptuous bastard it has ever been my great misfortune to chance upon." She stood on the tips of her toes to glare at him, as close to face-to-face as the disparity in their heights would permit, the epitome of British womanhood wronged. Kagome listened closely, still watching from her hidden corner.

Sesshoumaru stood stiffly, awkwardly, with the baby in his arm, staring Holden down with what was meant to be a steady gaze. She returned it in equal measure, and Kagome held her breath.

Finally, finally, Holden's lips began to tremble, and when they ceased trembling, they formed a scarcely repressed smile. "It is beautiful, you know."

Imperceptibly, but unquestionably, Sesshoumaru relaxed. Holden gripped his shoulders and pulled herself up to whisper in his ear. "Thank you."

All at once she looked nervous herself. "May I?" she asked, with a quick glance at the baby.

Sesshoumaru immediately proffered the child.

She gathered the infant into her arms, eyes a little too wide, breast heaving a little too quickly, but whatever awe or amazement she felt, she concealed well as she retreated into the green rocker.

"Anastasius, you said?" She wasn't looking at Sesshoumaru when he nodded; her eyes were full of the child. "I like it," she murmured.

He moved to leave; she halted him. "Stay with me."

Sesshoumaru opened his mouth, but at that moment, Anastasius let out a great wail, reaching for his mother, who, stricken, offered him her fingers to play with.

The sudden fear that sprang to Holden's eyes at the cry of her child decided him; he dropped to the floor with an oiled elegance, leaning gracefully against the crib. Neither cared to break the silence, and after a few moments of watching Holden slowly rock Anastasius and Sesshoumaru watch the fluid, rhythmic movements of her body as she did so, Kagome quietly crept away.

Hannibal was waiting for her when she crawled back through Holden's windows.

"You would tell me it's not nice to spy on people. Fucking hypocrite." He easily dodged the hand she thrust toward his ears. It had become a kind of game for them, a kind of red-hands game. He would drop a carefully placed curse word, she would try to slap his mouth, twist his ears, or otherwise reprimand him, and he would attempt to avoid the punishment. He won perhaps seventy percent of the time – but Kagome had noted with satisfaction that he had good reason to do his best. Sango had long ago perfected the use of the outraged slap, and she'd been only too happy to teach it to her friend from the future. Kagome had made good use of it a number of times in the past few years.

She made good use of it now; having dodged her first attack, Hannibal was cocky and completely unprepared for the second, a smart, stinging smack delivered directly to his dirty mouth.

"Not fair!" he protested, rubbing furious, ridiculously, at his suddenly red lips. "Cheater!"

"You shouldn't let your guard down." She smiled sweetly. "I keep telling you to watch your mouth, especially around One and the baby."

"And I keep telling you – "

"Your nose gets in the way, I know." She grinned and delivered a third blow out of sheer devilry, a two-fingered rap on the nose.

"Oi, bitch!" He backed away from her several steps, but she scarcely registered the motion.

The words had fallen on her like a tidal wave. Again and again they sounded in her ears, but not spoken in Hannibal's cracking tenor tones. Now, a slow, deep growl, a warning to stop. A plaintive whine, which would almost certainly have been followed by the barked question, "What did you do that for?" A demand, an irritable impatient order to get moving, to get going, to do _something_. A call, a simple request for acknowledgement. A thousand things those words had meant to her over the years played through her head.

It wasn't until Hannibal had left off calling her Higurashi and began to shake her, bellowing her given name at her that she remembered where she was.

For a moment, fear was naked on his face, fear that she'd lost it, fear for what would happen to him if she had. But the moment he saw that she'd regained herself, it was veiled by a carefully aloof, stony mask.

"Idiot, going all spacey like that," he said snidely. She blinked, still too off-balance to retort, and the hard mask softened just a little. "I really just came to tell you I'd found something."

Something like hope began to warm her flash-frozen heart.

"Something…?" He nodded briefly and snatched up her wrist, half-dragging her along the hall-way.

Kagome had never fully explored Blackbourne Manor. At first she'd been too ill to do so; later on she had been too preoccupied with the precocious One and the charming Six to have a spare moment, and so it was that she quickly lost her way as Hannibal towed her through the manor's many corridors. Mounting a winding staircase a step or two behind him, she realized with surprise that he was taking her into a tower, and it occurred to her that she had never seen Sesshoumaru's home from the outside. She had been asleep the two times she had approached it from a distance, and the only part of the grounds she had explored had been Sesshoumaru's private garden, where she and One had occasionally played together.

"I didn't even know this was here," she exclaimed, tugging her hand away to stare out an arched window. She was looking over the roof, and was astonished to see battlements and towers. They weren't _completely_ out-of-place in a British manor, as she knew from her historical architecture class, but still, it was a bit over the top.

"Did you want to see this or not?" Hannibal growled down to her. He was already out of sight, having turned around the central square that the staircase was built around. Chastened, she hurried up after him.

The room at the tower's top wasn't especially large. The windows, which would have been empty originally, had been filled with beautifully worked, if rather subdued, stained glass panels. There was a certain elegant simplicity about the space that belied Sesshoumaru's touch, and Kagome concealed a smile behind her hand. The room didn't carry his scent at all, however, so she wondered briefly why he'd bothered to decorate a room he didn't expect to spend much time in.

Watching Hannibal hop onto a desk and seat himself cross-legged before the flat screened computer monitor, a happy thrill shivered down her spine. The room smelled very much like Hannibal, and Hannibal, unlike Six or One, was very like Inuyasha. The half-demon had spent hours in tree boughs in the feudal, feeling the need to distance himself, even from people he liked. It made sense to Kagome, evidently to Sesshoumaru too, that in the event that Inuyasha were ever to stay at Blackbourne Estate, the he would eventually seek ought a lofty refuge, perhaps like this one, just as Hannibal had. Thus, like the nursery, Sesshoumaru had left his stamp anonymously, but indelibly, on this place.

Eyes misting a little, suppressed smile slipping out just a bit, she took the chair Hannibal had disregarded.

"I told Sesshoumaru already," Hannibal said with a sidelong glance at her. "He told me to come to him with anything I found first, so don't get mad at me."

Her temper flared slightly, but the irony that she should uncover his duplicity the same day Holden had cooled it, even brought a reluctant, wry smile to her face. "Bastard," she said carelessly. Hannibal blinked at her, not sure what to make of the uncharacteristic response.

He opted for an unconcerned shrug. "Anyway, I started out looking for an accurate representation of the Lily Crest, so we would know what we're looking for, right?" He turned the screen around to face her, and there was an image of a very old book displayed there. Turns out Sesshoumaru was way ahead of me."

"This is a first edition copy of Maccognano's _On Religious Symbolism: Motifs, Emblems, and Other Catholic Figurations Pertaining to the Age of the Apostles and that of the Apologists, As Derived from Greek Texts of the Third Century after the Death of Our Lord Jesus Christ_. It's the only book known to contain an image of the Lily Crest – the Greek texts that stupidly long title referred to have been lost for centuries. There are only six known copies of the book still in existence, and Sesshoumaru has begged, borrowed, or stolen three of them over the past few hundred years.

The Hand got hold of them first, evidently, because each one had the Lily Crest drawing torn out. The fourth is in their possession. The fifth is on display at the Vatican – that's this one, here. But the sixth – the sixth they were never able get their hands on." He grinned, and his eyes sparkled with pride. "Sesshoumaru wasn't ever able to locate the sixth book, either, and that's where I came in."

Pausing, he dipped his head back, thrusting his chin into the air, waiting for her reaction.

At fifteen, Kagome would have clasped her hands together with excitement, widened her eyes, and parted her lips, the perfect picture of breathless anticipation. She considered acting like an adult and raising a brow, but that would have demeaned his efforts. After seeing what Seven's betrayal and the Hand's nonsense had done to One, and to Six's self-confidence, Kagome couldn't bear to do it. So she laced her fingers together and brought them to her chin, opened her eyes wide and parted her lips, silently begging him to tell her about whatever brilliance he had pulled off.

Inuyasha probably would have seen right through her fake enthusiasm, but then, Inuyasha knew her quite a bit better than Hannibal did.

Hannibal, suitably gratified, deigned to share his great discovery with her.

"The sixth book is also at the Vatican, in the pope's private library. The contents of that library are supposed to be confidential, but if you know who to bribe…" He grinned.

Kagome was confused. "But how did you think to look for it there in the first place?"

His lips pulled back over his fangs so far that the gums were exposed. "Just my own phenomenal memory."

She waited.

"The last place the sixth book was ever seen was at the University of Pisa in the late 1580s – that's no secret. What nobody realized was that Maffeo Barberini graduated from the University of Pisa in 1589." He was obviously very, very proud of himself, but although the name Barberini sounded familiar, she couldn't place it.

He rolled his eyes; a sour twist of his mouth announced his disgust with her. "Would it help if I told you that Maffeo Barberini became Pope Urban VIII in 1623?"

A light clicked on. "The Palazzo Barberini! I should have remembered; it was one of Bernini's early architectural works."

Hannibal shrugged, uninterested, and drummed his fingers on his knees, impatient for some recognition. Kagome smiled. "Well, you still haven't explained how you knew that Urban VIII graduated from the university at about the same time the book disappeared – or why you would think he took it."

The drumming stopped. "Galileo," he answered cryptically.

She wrinkled her nose. "What about him?"

"I saw some program about mathematical paradoxes a few months ago, and Galileo's paradox about squares came up. I was curious about the guy, so I looked him up on the internet, found out that he'd been befriended and then betrayed by a pope, so I looked up the pope too."

"And the pope who called Galileo to recant was Urban VIII," Kagome remembered, vaguely satisfied that she'd remembered as much as she had about the historical context of Baroque architecture. "And you thought he took it because…?"

"Because I don't trust good Catholics," he answered matter-of-factly. "I had a hunch, and it panned out. Pretty unsurprising." But he wasn't 'unsurprised' that his hunch proving accurate. Something ugly had dimmed the bright pride in his eyes, and Kagome felt like shrinking away from the hatred exposed there.

"And you're certain this copy hasn't been damaged?"

"I told you, we bribed someone to check it out."

Kagome winced. "A churchman?"

The ugly look in his eyes intensified. "A cardinal, actually."

Eager to move away from the subject of corrupt church officials, Kagome groped for something else to talk about. "If it's in the pope's private library, how are we going to look at it?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" A wicked smile joined the hateful gaze. "We're going to steal it."


	19. Family Ties

Oh, I know I've kept you waiting for so long, and I'm sure these chapters of character development have been just brutal for you action-lovers, but I promise, things are going to heat up in the next chapter. Forgive the wait, please, my new job is taking some getting used to, and, as I'm getting married in four months, my time isn't really my own anymore.

Obviously there have been some new developments in the manga that completely screw up parts of this story, and I do have plans to correct the inconsistencies. However, I figured you guys would rather see the story finished first, so I'll go back and fine-tune the details afterward.

For everyone who has reviewed, I'm honored. Let me just say that your criticisms and questions are every bit as welcome as your praise -- there's no point in writing a story that isn't clear or is too complicated or too poorly phrased to be understandable. You're not going to hurt my feelings, I promise.

I've had some questions about why Goliath couldn't have been saved by Tensaiga. The sad, blunt truth is that there's nothing left of him to be revived. The thought of resurrecting Goliath didn't even really occur to Sesshoumaru, who didn't know him, or that he'd been killed, and didn't know what he'd done for Kagome; at least, he didn't know until long after it was too late. Remember, Hannibal destroyed the Bandiagara facility, and Goliath's body was right there at ground zero. It would be silly to assume that Hannibal didn't know about Tensaiga, but he had no reason to believe that Sesshoumaru would use it to ressurect Goliath. Besides that, he's too intelligent to believe he could have safely retrieved Goliath's body and steal the sword from Sesshoumaru. (He isn't a miniature Inuyasha, as much as I make the comparison. Unlike our favorite hanyou, Hannibal doesn't usually fight battles he can't win. Too smart.)

Goliath staying dead is pretty essential to the story -- he's not really the kind of person who could just blend into modern society, and his death serves as a kind of common bond between Kagome and Hannibal. In the end, Goliath's death is the tragic result of mistrust, miscommunication, and plain bad luck. It happens.

Once again, Inuyasha and his friends belong to Rumiko Takahashi.

**Family Ties**

It wouldn't go away.

An odd, gnawing sort of ache throbbed beneath Sesshoumaru's perfectly tailored silk shirt. His breath caught and stuck in his breast, as though something within had suddenly cramped up on itself.

He knew what it was, of course. He hadn't felt it in years, hadn't allowed himself to feel it. But there it was, that hitch in his breath, just as powerful and painful as ever, that little pang of mingled desire and regret, that microcosmic summation of the last five hundred years.

Watching Holden coo at the tiny infant he had resurrected proved too moving, and the dam on the wall he had erected for himself crumbled, and that cruel little spasm robbed him of breath every time he witnessed he sweet exchanges between mother and child.

It hurt because it could have been – had been – Rin and Aikomi. It hurt because it was Holden and her son and he loved her, loved them both, and couldn't tell them so. It hurt because his queer little family all recognized the pain and held their tongues, because they loved him and couldn't bring themselves to belittle his tragedy by telling him he was a fool, because they knew he knew it as well as they did.

Still, promises were promises, and a dream of his beloved wife was simply not enough to break his word to himself or to Rin. He cherished Holden and her son, he would protect them with his life if need be, he saw to their comforts and their wellbeing, and, so far as he was able, to their happiness.

But that was all he could do.

Sesshoumaru was a pragmatic individual. He viewed complicated affairs with great distaste; in fact, it had been Inuyasha's curious predicament of loving his dead love's reincarnation that had first touched his heart with anything resembling empathy. He had ridiculed the half-blood about it more than once, but, in all truthfulness, he did not envy Inuyasha his dilemma. Pity would have been too strong a term for that first stirring of warmth, but as time went on, he'd found himself more and more enthralled with Inuyasha's implausible stamina and perseverance where Kagome had been concerned.

Sesshoumaru, seated in his usual chair by the fragrant fire in his study, blinked rapidly, taken aback by the name that suddenly intruded on his consciousness.

_Kagome._ When had he established a first name relationship with the damned girl?

He shifted a little in his chair, mulling over the last few weeks. At some point he'd left off calling her Higurashi and begun to use her given name, but he couldn't remember when it had happened.

Ah, his own sentimentality was nauseating him.

He turned his mind to other matters.

Six seemed better, but there were moments of quietude that deeply disturbed his brother.

His warrior's instincts laughed at him again. Brother? To the clone of a half-blood, half-breed, half-brother?

An involuntary whine escaped his throat; he threw an agitated look around the study to be certain he was still quite alone. He felt curiously disgusted with himself. Whether it was because he resented his weakness in becoming attached to these people, or because he recognized the terrible pride in the resentment, he couldn't have said. Perhaps it was both.

Brother, he told himself firmly, after a few anxious moments of soul searching. Brother.

Six's periodic lapses into silence concerned him. He certainly _seemed_ the most stable of Inuyasha's clones, but appearances deceived as often as not, and Sesshoumaru had always believed Six had been hiding something.

He thought back to the climactic struggle between his brother and Seven.

Unfeeling. That was the impression Six's fight had given Sesshoumaru. Perfectly executed, without a drop of sentiment. And it didn't complement the charming, sincere persona Six generally exhibited at all. Cool-tempered, surgically precise, and absolutely brutal, his style had strongly resembled Sesshoumaru's early methods.

And yet, he couldn't believe Six had consciously begun to imitate him. His winning, easy charm couldn't be entirely false. No one was that good an actor. Still it seemed… genuine… in the way breathing was automatic. With little effort, one's breath could be controlled or even halted, and it seemed to Sesshoumaru that Six's temperament was much the same kind of circumstance – he could produce the appropriate charisma on demand, or shirk it entirely, if he chose to do so. Sesshoumaru did not ever seriously entertain the thought that Six's deception was in any wise malevolent; his kind heart was only too evident through his actions. However, like Holden, he was a master of disguising his true self.

Sesshoumaru frowned, staring into his fire. No. Not like Holden.

Like Inuyasha.

There it was, had been staring him in the face the whole time, the explanation for Six's strange behavior.

For all his bluster and bravado, Inuyasha's heart had been every bit as tender as Six's. All the audacity and insensitivity had been a defense mechanism; Sesshoumaru had known that almost from the beginning, when Inuyasha had stood against him in their father's tomb for Kagome's sake. That cocky pride shielded him against the years of rejection, isolation, and humiliation; it precluded the sharing of pain and the vulnerability such disclosure could produce.

It made perfect sense that his clone would also adjust his manner to avoid revealing his pain and weaknesses.

Unlike his progenitor, however, Six had never really been alone. One had always depended on him, and for more than physical protection. Adopting Inuyasha's standoffish, loner attitude would have damaged One, and from the first rousing of his individual will, Six's world had revolved around his technically older sibling. And so he had donned a clever guise of emotional availability, sharing enough of himself to seem open and sincere, enough to satisfy One's need for connection and to forestall any deeper probes into his character. It was a precarious balancing act, and he'd finally stumbled enough for Sesshoumaru to discern the truth.

What Inuyasha had attempted to conceal behind snarls and scowls, Six had cunningly hidden under a mask of smiles and laughter.

Sesshoumaru drew a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he stretched his senses through the manor. Holden was brewing coffee; she'd put cinnamon in the grounds, and she hadn't yet cracked open the brandy. Hannibal had attacked the leftovers of last night's shrimp, greedily peeling the crackly shells away. Kagome's sweet alto voice cooed an old Japanese lullaby at Anastasius, whose whimpering slowly died away. One had fallen asleep on Six's bed – really, he was going to have to do something about that, before too long. And Six was outside, in the branches of the majestic oak that had been planted long ago in honor of Holden's birth.

Sesshoumaru opened his eyes. Holden was happy, and more than happy, exuberantly absorbed in motherhood. Kagome doted on the baby, and the attachment she was developing for Anastasius reinforced and validated her feelings toward her own unborn child, and strengthened her relationship with Holden.

One appeared to have suffered no long term effects from the invasion, though Sesshoumaru would certainly continue to keep a close eye on him. He ought to have known One would be alright. Unlike his elders, One's trust was easily given, his fears easily smoothed away, and even Sesshoumaru could not conceal his affection for the precocious toddler.

Rather unsurprisingly, considering the similarities between Hannibal and Inuyasha, the teen genius and Kagome had paired off together; each unconsciously licked the other's proverbial wounds. It was a responsibility off of Sesshoumaru's shoulders, and the growing friendship between the two pleased him. Deep, strong bonds were forming within the complicated aberration that was his family, bonds that would be crucial to success in the long struggle against the Hand.

In fact, Sesshoumaru's only real concern anymore was for Six. Determined to deal with that concern posthaste, Sesshoumaru vacated his chair and silently made his way toward his brother.

In the breeze, a cool wind that was nonetheless laden with all the fragrances of an English country summer, Sesshoumaru could just detect the silver hair that stirred beneath white ears. He'd cut it not long after Kagome had joined them, and the neat, short cut that bobbed just beneath his jaw so little resembled his progenitor's tangled mop that Sesshoumaru felt the twitch of a smile attack the corners of his mouth.

"Six."

"Sesshoumaru?" A pair of big golden eyes blinked down at him in confusion. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Sesshoumaru replied, tilting his head back to better view the clone.

Six shrugged, his characteristic lopsided smile toying about his lips. "It's a nice night. Smells good."

"Ah." Sesshoumaru regarded him impassively for a moment, and then, with a single, fluid bound, planted himself beside his brother in the tree bough. He wrinkled his nose slightly.

Six grinned crookedly at him. "Not exactly your easy chair, is it, big guy?"

"Indeed it is not," Sesshoumaru agreed, shifting just a bit in hopes of finding a more comfortable position. "Do you have any idea how that particular designation annoys me?"

"Better than Sesshu." The grin didn't fade.

"Most assuredly."

They sat in an easy silence for a moment or two before Sesshoumaru decided to broach the subject weighing on his mind.

"Six." A furry white ear cocked itself toward Sesshoumaru, but otherwise, Six remained perfectly still, relaxed against the tree trunk.

"Is it not time you selected a more appropriate name? Hannibal and Goliath shed those ridiculous numbers long ago."

Six shrugged. "I haven't found one that strikes me yet."

"Cerberus."

Six grimaced and shook his head. Sesshoumaru raised a brow. "It seems logical, considering the number of faces you've shown lately. The name of a three-headed dog for a multi-faceted individual."

There at last, a reaction: a stiffening in his shoulders, a labored strain in his breath.

Sesshoumaru looked away. "You're really quite good. Much better than Inuyasha. Perhaps as skilled as Holden. But to those who know you best, your disguise is hardly impenetrable."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." His voice was light, uncaring, but the tenseness in his posture belied his distress.

"Don't be foolish, Six. And if you please, don't behave as if I were." A stern note had slipped involuntarily into his tone, he softened it with a look and an eloquently curious eyebrow.

Six said nothing, but after a few moments, the tension fled his body, and he seemed almost to wilt, crumpling in upon himself. Sesshoumaru took that for his cue to continue.

"It could not have been easy to destroy Seven. But you must know that your actions were fully justified."

"He was my brother," Six answered, staring at the dark earth below their feet.

Sesshoumaru shook his head. "One is your brother. Hannibal is your brother." He hesitated, but only briefly. "I am your brother."

A pair of golden eyes slid his direction.

"A person who would betray you is not your brother, Six."

Six smiled cynically, and the expression tugged painfully at Sesshoumaru's absurdly sentimental heart. He tried to quash the ridiculous little pang, but it refused to be stilled. "If you want to get down to cases, big guy, I betrayed him first."

"He abandoned you, leaving you to do the right thing alone. He chose the Hand over One, over you. You did nothing wrong."

"I may not have had any choices, Sesshoumaru, but that doesn't make what I did right. Especially since he didn't even really have a chance, not after I goaded him into his demonic form." The darkness in his face deepened, and bitterness crept into his tone. "I make a hell of a killer, just like they wanted."

Suddenly infuriated, Sesshoumaru drew back his fist and drove it deeply into Six's jaw.

"Fool." Six jumped to his feet, cupping his face in his hand, stunned. Sesshoumaru also rose. "A killer? Is that what I brought into my house? Is that what I entrust my – " he checked himself, "—companions to? If that's what you choose to be, then leave this place. Now."

Six backed away slowly, not quite believing what he was hearing. Somewhere above him, Sesshoumaru detected Kagome's sweet, floral fragrance drifting downward, and briefly wondered how much she had seen of the exchange.

Six continued to move away, still holding a trembling hand to his injured face. Sesshoumaru reached out and caught his wrist. "If you choose to be a man, however, come inside and leave your ghosts behind you."

Six blinked rapidly, trying to process what exactly had just happened. With a quick jerk of a nod, he pulled his hand free of Sesshoumaru's grasp. Sesshoumaru inclined his head in acknowledgement, and gracefully restored himself to the ground before returning to the manor. After a few, quiet moments, Six followed him.

* * *

"I win!" One crowed, jumping to his feet in his excitement. "I win, I win, I win!"

"Gloating isn't very polite, One," Kagome said absently. "I think we've had this conversation before." Hannibal had wakened not long before, having fallen asleep on Six's bed, and wanted to play a game of checkers before heading off to his own room to sleep for the night. Kagome had been paying attention to the quiet tête-à-tête below in the oak tree, and in her distraction, One had easily bested her.

"Yeah, but I still like winning." One grinned at her, then swarmed up into her lap. "Not as much as I like you, though," he added winsomely.

"Little flatterer. What do you want?" She rubbed her hands over her belly, noting with surprising pleasure the slight bulge that had formed there.

"Candy," he replied immediately. "I won, so I want candy."

"No way, kiddo." A plaintive whine grated in her ears, and she frowned at him. "Let's not get greedy, okay?"

With a sullen expression, he crossed his arms over his chest. Suddenly a big grin wiped away the surly grimace. "How about kisses?" he asked slyly.

Kagome winked at him, and, pulling him into a tight embrace, did her best to smother him in big, loud, wet kisses. As she did so, her hands sought the bones of his hips, the one place Inuyasha had always been ticklish. To her delight, One howled false objections at her, squirming helplessly in her iron grip.

It wasn't long before One realized he wasn't the only ticklish person in the room, and had the pads of his fingers wriggling against Kagome's neck, causing her to flinch and squeal herself.

"You two are ridiculous." Hannibal snorted as he walked into the room. "Grow up already."

"No," Kagome returned lightly. "Absolutely not."

Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Keh."

Still smiling, but no longer laughing, One caught Kagome's eyes out of the corners of his own, and she casually relinquished her hold on him.

"Has Shippou been in touch?" she asked, rising from her chair to stand beside Hannibal, who was busily setting up his laptop on the desk. The tower room had become one of her favorite places, much to the teen's disgust. He ostensibly preferred solitude, though his objections to her presence had recently tapered off. Whether that was because he'd given up on trying to make her leave him alone, or because he'd become accustomed to her company, or because he secretly enjoyed the scent she left in the chamber, well, that was anyone's guess.

"You'd have to ask Sesshoumaru that. Holden would usually be the one to go to, but she's been so busy with that damn yowling kid that he's taken on most of her responsibilities."

One snickered suddenly. " 'Yowling kid?' He's a _faun_. You made a bad pun, Han!"

Hannibal scowled. "It's 'Hannibal.'"

"Of course it is, otherwise your nickname would be something besides 'Han.'"

"Brat, don't call me that!" Slamming his laptop closed, he leapt atop the table and pounced on the technically older clone. One scrambled out of the way, but only just.

"Kagome! Help me!" Racing around behind Kagome's legs, the little half-demon neatly drew Hannibal into the trap he and Kagome had been silently plotting ever since the churlish teen had entered the room.

Kagome caught Hannibal around the chest and locked her fingers together behind his neck, pinning his arms over his head. Writhing and cursing, he struggled in vain to free himself. One launched himself at Hannibal's midsection and mercilessly dug his fingers into the other clone's side.

Hannibal couldn't help it. Like Inuyasha, like Six, like One, his one vulnerability had been exposed, and Kagome took full advantage of it, keeping him still while One tickled him. When Hannibal could no longer draw breath and tears had appeared in the corners of his emerald eyes, One grinned unabashedly up at him and attacked him in his best attempt at a bear hug. Then, before Hannibal could free himself from Kagome's headlock, One bolted.

"You… you… brat… you _bitch_!" Hannibal sputtered, when he could finally speak again.

"Love you, too, Hannibal," Kagome said merrily, repositioning her hands so that she could pull his hair back from his face. Planting a resounding smack of a kiss on his cheek, she released him and followed One down the stairs that led into the main part of the manor.

Not a single word descended after her, and she smiled to herself. Inuyasha had been like a battered, maltreated stray, resentful and suspicious, and violent when provoked. Taking in such an animal is always tricky; even after it accepts its new friend, it remains wary and cautious, and is difficult to teach. Undesirable behaviors persist, and a certain amount of punishment must be meted out alongside constant affection to properly train it.

A mistreated puppy, on the other hand, may be ill-tempered and difficult, but, having learned fewer bad behaviors, there is much less to unlearn. A little affection goes a long way toward transforming a bad puppy into a good dog.

She'd had to sit Inuyasha halfway to hell before the barriers around his tender heart even began to crack.

Hannibal she could win over with kind words and kisses, and she meant to do so as quickly as possible.

* * *

Dawn broke slowly over the horizon as Shippou pondered the books and documents before him. On his left, a tome on Church dress and manner lay open, and another on customs of the papacy had been carelessly tossed aside. To his right, the blueprints of the Apostolic Palace bore the unmistakable marks of Anzu's highlighter. Now open before him was Ernesto Begni's _The Vatican – its History – its Treasures_.

"Really, Shippou, I don't understand why you're going to all this trouble. It's not like this is a difficult task, darling."

Chizu stood stark naked in the doorway, and Shippou looked quickly away, so as not to be distracted.

"Chizu! What if the children came?" He winced at the thought.

"They don't care."

"I care."

"You spent entirely too much time with humans as a child." The amusement in her voice robbed the words of any sting they might have carried.

"Please, Shippou – the children are away, and there is nothing more to be learned from those ridiculous papers. Taking the book from the palace will be a simple chore."

"Assuming the Hand hasn't cracked into any of our communications with Sesshoumaru," Shippou answered, following one of Anzu's yellow lines down the corridor of the Papal Apartments, toward the recently constructed library.

"Shippou." Compelled by the vixen in the doorway, he turned his eyes up to his mate.

She had been a curious looking creature, when he'd first met her. He had never encountered a black kitsune, and, as she was as beautiful as she was novel, he'd been smitten with her from the beginning.

Much, much older than her husband, Chizu had already been possessed of three tails when they became mates. She had never deigned to tell him her true age, but considering that most kitsune did not develop additional tails until their one thousandth year of life, he guessed her to be nearing two thousand. After nearly three hundred years of marriage, her five black, white-tipped tails quivered with her rather formidable libido.

"Come away, Shippou." Unable to resist the smile or the anxious trembling of her tails, Shippou abandoned his studies for his mate's summons.

A few hours later, when he returned to his massive study, he found his youngest perched on the top of the grandfather clock Sesshoumaru had given him and Chizu the day of Kiku's birth.

"Kiku. What are you doing here?"

She was no bigger than he had been during the drawn out struggle with Naraku all those years ago, and she clambered down the side of 'her' clock and into his arms with all the excitement he had always felt when Kagome returned from her time.

"I could ask you the same thing, Daddy," Kiku said, when she'd positioned herself on his shoulder. "Why does Mommy make all those scary sounds when you're alone together? All that growling sounds like you're fighting." A worried frown pulled her bow of a mouth down.

"Grown-ups sometimes do fight, Kiku," he said after a moment, flushing. "But you shouldn't worry about your mother and me."

"Oh. Okay." She rested her arms on his head, and her head on her arms. "Are you going away again?"

"We have some business in Italy, but it shouldn't take too long. Dai will stay with you."

She wrinkled her sharp little nose. "At least it's not Anzu this time. She's no fun at all."

Shippou hid a smile. "That's not a nice thing to say about your sister, Kiku."

"True, though." Dai's amused voice came from the doorway.

"Home already, son?" Shippou plucked Kiku from his shoulder and tossed her to her elder brother, who picked her neatly out of the air.

"Hi, princess." He smiled at her and settled her on his own shoulder.

"Dai dai!" She tried to get her small arms around Dai's neck, but they wouldn't quite reach all the way around. "Mommy and Daddy were fighting earlier," she informed him solemnly, "but he says everything is okay now."

"Fighting?" Dai looked up, curious. "Mother and Father? That doesn't seem –"

"Oh, yeah, they always fight when they're alone."

Shippou's blush had returned, and Dai noted it with an evil gleam in his eye. "Oh, that's not fighting, Kiku-chan. That's –"

"Nothing to worry about." Chizu breezed in, thankfully clothed. "You _will_ look after your sister for me, won't you, Dai, dearest? I want you to make sure she goes to bed on time, and see that she doesn't watch anything _inappropriate_ on the television."

"Of course, Mother." Dai surrendered the game, knowing himself beaten.

"Have the three of you quite finished wasting time?" Anzu had arrived home as well. "Because if you have, I've just received word from Sesshoumaru. He's ready when we are."

"How's Kagome?" Shippou demanded.

"Evidently the presence of Holden's faun and the number two clone has been sufficient to calm her. That clone is quickly adapting to his new surroundings. Six was Sesshoumaru's greatest concern, but it appears that he has finally moved on."

Chizu looked sharply at her daughter. "Did you tell him?"

"You told me not to, Mother."

Shippou groaned. "Chizu! Why?"

"I know what I'm doing, Shippou." She paused. "Although, someone had best do it before we get to Vatican City. Six's reaction to that kind of surprise is one headache we don't need."


	20. Breakthrough

Not my world, just my playground

A/N: I know you've been waiting. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore myself. I missed my favorite hanyou too much. So, here he is, in his very first After the BoneEater's Well debut. Everybody please welcome Inuyasha to the stage!

**Breakthrough**

The mist had a definite pattern to it. The shadowy figures that drifted aimlessly by called to mind a human body, but there seemed to be nothing distinguishing one from another. They were no more material than the perpetual mist that enveloped him; they were only slightly denser masses of darkness than the gray haze they floated in. He'd learned to avoid them, those shadow-people. Touching them made him shiver all over with a feeling of wrongness, of not belonging, of isolation.

For some time, he could not remember who he was. He still didn't know where he was, or why he was here. A quiet presence followed him, hovering just on the edge of his consciousness, though it had even less substance than the shadow-people. This presence he could neither see nor touch, but he knew it was there, as certainly as he knew that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

He lost track of time in the mist. Hours melted into days and weeks, and soon he could not remember what it felt like to stand on solid ground, or to feel enclosed by walls. He could not remember what it felt like to have mass and weight, to be aware of his body. He could not remember sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He could not remember breathing.

But he remembered her.

* * *

"Kagome."

Sesshoumaru never did anything so unrefined as to actually call for someone, but the inflection in his voice was one of command, and Kagome set down the chess piece she'd been mulling over. Hannibal was winning anyway, so she didn't mind having to excuse herself from the table.

"Loser," Hannibal said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. He snatched up his queen and knocked her king half-way across the room when she stood to answer Sesshoumaru's summons.

"Snot," she retorted, before abandoning the teen to put away the chess board.

"Shippou, Chizu, and Anzu are on their way here," Sesshoumaru told her, in his usual, careless tones, when he met her in the hall. Turning, he started back the way he had come and gestured for her to fall in step beside him. "We will soon be in Vatican City."

"I don't expect that we will encounter any resistance," Sesshoumaru continued, "but I had rather be prepared for the worst. Although your status as a Guardian has significantly improved your physical abilities, you suffer an incredible lack of training." She pursed her lips, irritated with his cavalier manner. He ignored her.

"As I cannot imagine convincing you to remain behind –" here Kagome shook her head passionately, "I have contrived a means by which your regrettable inexperience may be offset."

He led her down several flights of stairs, into a part of the manor she hadn't yet explored, and into a room full of beautifully preserved military artifacts. Individually lit and climate-controlled display cases lined the walls, boasting suits of armor, ancient weapons, and battle flags. She noted them with a historian's interest and an artist's eye, biting her tongue to keep from commenting on the beautifully worked silver detailing of one particular helm.

Sesshoumaru stopped suddenly before a case that sat furthest away from the door, and stepped aside for Kagome to view it.

Within lay a single, enormous sword, like something from a fantasy novel. Jewel-encrusted and gaudy, it appeared even to Kagome's untrained eye to be a ceremonial sort of weapon, nothing a true soldier would ever wield. She turned to Sesshoumaru, puzzled.

"You can't mean for me to carry that."

"I don't expect you to use it, no. But you will carry it."

"Why carry a sword I can't use?"

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes briefly, and began to speak as if to a small child. "Kagome, what possible use could an antique sword be against biological weapons and machine guns?"

"None at all," Kagome answered tartly, irritated with his condescension. "If you would deign to explain it to me, perhaps we could get on with our lives?"

"You didn't give me the opportunity." His tone was infuriatingly smooth.

"I'm giving you one now."

He gestured to the sword. "Open the case, and pick it up."

"Magic?"

"Of a very particular nature."

Kagome shrugged. Seven years ago, magical swords would have called to mind childhood fairy tales. Now, it seemed only natural that the demon that harbored her, along with three clones of the man she loved, would have enchanted weapons at his disposal.

She laughed inwardly as she reached for the sword. Life was a peculiar thing.

* * *

A strange sort of pull roused his spirit, and suddenly the figures in the mist became rather more distinct. They remained shadowy and mostly featureless, but the shapes in the vapor took on defined forms – this one large and that small, this lean and frail, that rotund. That awareness that always hovered near him flared into her shape, briefly, and her face emerged in the haze. Hungrily he reached for her, but as quickly as she had appeared, she vanished from his sight. The sense of her remained close however, and he clung to it, like a child to a light in the darkness.

She was near.

* * *

Kagome shrieked. There, sitting on top of the case beside her, was Inuyasha.

She had not for a moment mistaken Six or Seven for the original. This one fooled her, glaring at her with his golden eyes. At any moment, he could have said, "Oi, bitch, what're you looking at?" and she wouldn't have been the least surprised.

She stumbled backward and dropped the sword, and she would have fallen had Sesshoumaru not caught hold of her arm.

"You… you…" she sputtered. She wanted to demand an explanation, but couldn't seem to make her mouth work.

"Oi, bitch, what're you looking at?"

"Nanao. Stop toying with her."

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, and with a flippant shrug dismissed Sesshoumaru's complaint. All at once, Kagome could see that this person, whoever he was, was not her Inuyasha. "Always such a spoilsport, Sesshoumaru."

"Nanao."

"Oh, very well." Inuyasha stepped nimbly off the case. "Nanao, my dear. At your service."

"Sesshoumaru…" Kagome whispered.

"Do you want to explain it, Sesshoumaru, dear, or shall I?" The facsimile Inuyasha batted his eyes flirtatiously.

"Don't do that in that form, Nanao." There was no audible threat laid into the command, but anyone who knew Sesshoumaru could read the underlying message.

"Ah, you're not fun at all." Inuyasha twirled, spinning so quickly that Kagome only noted the change when the red and white blur of Inuyasha's typical costume became a pale blue and deep green blur instead.

When the figure's whirling slowed, Kagome could see that it was a female form.

A low, throaty laugh, not unlike Holden's, bubbled up from Nanao's painted red mouth.

She was beautiful, no doubt about that, with her pale white face and big, intense blue eyes. And she was every inch a demon, from the tips of her clawed fingers to her shiny white fangs and pointed ears. Silky green hair cascaded over her shoulders in long, perfect ringlets, a lovely compliment to her yukata, upon which a thousand spruce colored vines wound about in a background of blue silk, graced by tiny red flowers.

"Hello, Kagome, dear. My name is Nanao. I'll be looking after you for awhile." The demon smiled mischievously. "I'll take good care of you, I promise."

She turned her devilish smile upon Sesshoumaru. "Would you care to explain, or shall I?"

* * *

Oh, yes, she was close. Though he did not sense any particular danger, he felt overwhelmed by the need to protect her from something, from anything. A fierce rage built up within him, and the sensation reminded him of others, of having once been aware of a body, and the odd things emotions could do to that body. He remembered growling at threats, remembered the movement of shaking a fist. He snarled at the mist, warning away all who approached. In the darkness, a shape emerged, and he watched it with a cagey awareness, painfully conscious of the presence beside him.

* * *

"Many years ago, the demon Nanao took a human lover," Sesshoumaru began, but a dark scowl on the beautiful demon's face silenced him, and she took up the story.

"We were married," she corrected, still scowling. She turned a less hostile face to Kagome. "We were married," she repeated.

Kagome nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"My husband and I were happy together," the demon continued, holding Kagome's gaze. "But there were other demons, and humans as well, for that matter, who did not approve of our union. To make a very long, painful story short, my husband was murdered by humans who thought him a traitor for loving me."

Sesshoumaru, Kagome noted, was no longer looking at the woman he'd named Nanao.

"Devastated, I went to the sword maker Totosai, and begged him to create a weapon which would protect people like my beloved Aratamaru. He told me such a thing could not be created, unless it was from the bones of sorrow."

Kagome looked at Sesshoumaru, who did not return her look, but answered her question. "The bones of a demon who had suffered the loss of a lover."

Nanao nodded. "Precisely. Such a sword, he told me, could protect either human or demon, by calling upon the love of one for the other, and shaping that love into an image of one's beloved. That image alone, driven by the sorrow of the bones and the need of the one it represents to defend the one wielding the sword, would be substantial enough to withstand almost any attack."

"So when I hold the sword…"

"Inuyasha's image appears to protect you, granted power by my regrets, and Inuyasha's desire to protect you."

"But… but Inuyasha is…" Kagome hesitated.

"Inuyasha has been relegated to another plane of existence. That doesn't make his love for you or his need to protect you any less profound. Such things can reach across death itself, let alone a paltry boundary like that of Purgatory. Can it not, Sesshoumaru?"

Sesshoumaru remained strangely silent.

The demon's expression became sly. "Afraid, Sesshy, to find out just who your soul guardian might be?"

The demon lord turned on his heel without a word and vanished.

"Why did you do that?" Kagome said angrily. "It's not like he doesn't feel bad enough as it is."

"Because he never wanted me, dear, and I cannot abide being unpopular. A demon slayer by the name of Sango retrieved me for him before he went to Europe, and made him swear to always carry me before she revealed the truth of my magic."

"Sango!"

"Yes, that was her name. I got the impression that she and her family cared deeply for that old spoilsport, which was why she tricked him into taking me along. The magic causes him a great deal of pain. As it does you, I suspect. But you at least have cause to believe that the person whose image I project for you may soon be returned to the world of the living. Rin is forever lost to him. And now, he fears to touch me, because if I were to manifest as Anastasia Holden-Truelove – well, that would be tantamount to betrayal, wouldn't it?"

"Don't tease him about it," Kagome pleaded. "He's not as indifferent as he wants us to think. Please don't hurt him."

"Hush, child, I've had my fun. I think it's time the old dog moved on, myself, and Rin agrees with me."

Kagome frowned. "Rin agrees with you?"

"Her desires once fueled me, remember? A part of her remains connected to me, always."

"Then…"

"Yes, dear. A part of Inuyasha is connected to me now, as well. He's a feisty one, isn't he?"

"How deep does that connection go?" Kagome bent over the sword and brought it up. A couple of months ago, she wouldn't have been able to pick it up; now, its weight seemed very slight.

"If you're asking to speak with him, I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Emotions are about all that can pass along the boundary between life and death. If he were in this world, communicating with him would be a simple matter, but existence is different, where he is."

Kagome pulled the sword close, disappointed. The demon watched her closely.

"Perhaps," Nanao said slowly, "considering the peculiar, half-way nature of Purgatory…" She shook her head. "Even I wouldn't know how to go about it. I know Rin has managed to slip into Sesshoumaru's dreams in the past, but I don't know exactly how."

"It's alright, Nanao," Kagome said, trying to smile. "It was just a thought." One hand remained on the hilt of the sword. The other compulsively sought her rounded belly.

"Ah. That." Something akin to sympathy crossed the demon's face. "You did what you had to. There is no shame in that."

"I'm beginning to believe that," Kagome confessed. "But I don't know…" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"He loves you." Nanao shrugged. Then she smiled. "I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to seeing Inuyasha's image; I can't protect you like this. But I'm sure you'll be alright. True love has withstood worse." She smiled again, and disappeared.

* * *

He started as a solid, defined form walked out of the mist.

_Rin? What are you doing here?_

_That's a very long story, my friend._

He snorted. _Seems like all I've got is time, lately. Tell me._

For the first time in a long time, he felt real, alive, separate from the place around him. Part of it was Rin, the appearance of memory. But a lot of it was the presence that lingered beside him, that silently begged his protection.

_You won't like it._

_I already knew that. Tell me anyway._

Inuyasha had wept, the night after he had forced Kagome through the well, and watched his dreams crumble after her. He had wept when he had believed her dead of poison. Before her, the last time he had cried at been at his mother's funeral pyre.

In this unsubstantial, dreamlike world around him, scenes from other's lives flashed before him, as solidly real as Rin herself. With every scene, the knowledge, the truth of its setting slammed into him. The Hand and their filthy practices, the rapes, the clones, the diseases. Holden and her sad history. Sesshoumaru's quest to retrieve his daughter's soul from Purgatory and avenge his wife. Kagome's sad-eyed struggle through school, the dark, sleep-deprived eyes, the weight loss, the aching, empty nights. The brotherhood between Six and Seven, Two and Five, and their tragic ends. Watching the scenes Rin called up from the mist, Inuyasha wept again. The mist would not accept dishonesty from him; he could not hide from himself.

He cried when Sesshoumaru flung open his door, wild-eyed, to find his beautiful bride and his precious daughter dead on the floor. Rin's bowels had been hatefully strung across the room and across her daughter's body, dark and slick against the fire-rat kimono.

He cried when the strange-eyed blonde woman struggled in vain to save her infant son from her foul husband. And when she draped herself over a peculiar piece of machinery, one that forced a huge, iron ball through her midsection, and still could not make herself die, he cried.

He cried when Kagome beat her fists bloody against the ruined well, lashing out at her mother and grandfather, who tried to reason with her, to pull her away. Inch-long splinters pierced her hands, and still, she couldn't bring herself to leave the well.

He cried when the Hand gloated over its newest creations, to torment and destroy his brother. When Four could not control his demon blood, and was executed. When Three took Two's beating, and retaliated, ripping the guards to pieces until he too, was executed. When Seven cursed Six, snaking out an arm to kill the tiny, terrified One. When Two had gently settled Kagome's body near Inuyasha's own sleeping form, and, finding himself alone, fell on his knees beside Five's bloodied corpse, sobbing.

And he cried for Kagome. For the blood that burbled up in her mouth, obscuring her words. For the hesitation, and then the horror in her eyes, when Two offered her a way out. For the self-loathing he saw there when she finally agreed. For the heartbreak that ripped through her when Seven had cast him down here.

_I am so sorry, Inuyasha. But you had to see it. They need our help. _Rin's voice came very quietly to his ears.

Somehow, during the fragmented history she had shown him, the world had become a great deal more solid; for all it looked like fog on the sea, he became aware of himself and managed to sit down on the haze. He swiped at the tears, suddenly surprised that he had been weeping. It had seemed like the natural, acceptable thing to do, and now he felt like a fool, and more than a fool, a weakling.

_I don't know what you think we can do from here,_ he snapped. Despite the ugliness of what he had been shown, on some level, he recognized the depth of Kagome's regrets – and, for that matter, Sesshoumaru's regrets – concerning him. Even in his helpless, impotent hurt and rage, he relished the confirmation of their love.

_Dreams, Inuyasha._

_Dreams?_

_If you know what you are doing, and if you are very, very careful, you can influence their dreams. They are a little lost, right now, and although they are finding their way, delay could be fatal, for all of them. Not to mention yourself and Aikomi. We can help them._

_How?_

_Encourage them to continue the fight. Soothe their fears. Comfort their hurts._

Because he was _so_ good at that. He shook his head and brushed her words aside, mind racing. _What if we aren't careful?_

_They could go mad, _she answered simply_. All that is needed for us to penetrate a mind is a connection to that world; the slightest memory can wake a soul here and open the boundary into a living soul. I was uncertain as to whether or not you would waken enough for me to reach you._ There was an almost reproachful tone to her voice.

The satin of Rin's peachy-colored kimono, with its countless rosy flowers, suddenly swelled up on a nonexistent wind to brush his hand. With surprise, he felt the sleek, cool fabric, and began to wonder if maybe she was right after all.

Maybe he wasn't as far away as he'd believed.

_Why are we different?_ Inuyasha asked suddenly.

_Different?_

_Different from those others._ He gestured to the shadow-people.

_Because we don't belong here, you and I. Nor Aikomi. _

_Then what about the others?_ he demanded. _The other half-demons? Are they here? And why are you here, anyway? They didn't cast your soul away, they…_ he stopped, a little shame-faced.

_They killed me, Inuyasha. I stay for Aikomi, and for the children who are alone. Very few are here; most have passed on. A number of mothers chose to stay, until their children passed into the underworld, after their bodies were no longer inhabitable. Now, only I remain._

He almost flinched at the simple statement of loneliness.

_How many of the children are still here?_

_Only those whose bodies, for one reason or another, remain undefiled by decay, as do yours and Aikomi's, because of the sacred pearl. There are four, in all, besides my Aikomi._

The beginnings of a wicked idea began to form in Inuyasha's head.

_You said we could make them go crazy. How?_

_Our sense of reality is somewhat more profound here. A living mind cannot comprehend it. If you intrude too deeply in their mind, you can drive them to madness, destroying their sense of what is real, and what is not._

_And how deep does the link have to be? Can you get into anyone's head from here, as long as you have a connection to the living world? Or just someone you know personally?_

Rin was beginning to question his intent; her face became troubled. _Anyone is susceptible to us… but why?_

He wasn't surprised she hadn't found a way to use her link to the real world against her enemies. She was probably the closest thing to a saint he'd ever encountered.

Inuyasha looked toward the place where he knew a piece of Kagome's soul hovered nearby, and he silently apologized for not being able to give her the comfort he knew she so desperately needed. But all of their survival depended on his brother besting the Hand and retrieving the Lily Crest. Kagome was strong, and because he trusted her strength, and the bit of himself the sorrow of the bones had taken, he could leave her be, and do what he was good at.

He could fight.

Rin was looking at him strangely. _Inuyasha?_

_Sorry, Rin, I'm not any good at making people feel better. _He smiled viciously, baring his fangs, relishing his newfound awareness of them. He curled his claws up in a fist, unaccountably pleased at the little bit of blood they drew from his fist.

_But I bet I could really screw with some minds, given the opportunity._

* * *

  
Neither Sesshoumaru nor Shippou's private jets could best the demons' top speed in the air, and so they had decided to ship their luggage ahead to the Roman branch of Shippou's organization. Kagome, Six, Sesshoumaru, and Holden were waiting when Shippou and two female kitsune landed lightly on their paws in Sesshoumaru's private garden. It had been a colossal struggle to convince Hannibal to stay at home, when it was his breakthrough that had made tonight possible.

Holden had started the whole mess by informing him that he would not be accompanying them to the Vatican.

Kagome had fought with him first, and finally yielded the mat to Sesshoumaru when the brash youth pointed out – truthfully – that she had even less experience taking care of herself than he did.

Sesshoumaru put his foot down – and Hannibal pointedly ignored him.

Finally, it was Six who silenced the surly teen.

"I am not going to loose another brother, Brainiac. So you're going to stay here with One, out of trouble, and I don't want any arguments about it."

Kagome felt his angry eyes boring into the back of her head as she climbed up on Shippou's back, clinging to Nanao's sheath. She'd asked Sesshoumaru, after tracking him down, what exactly the bones of sorrow were.

Nanao had thrown herself into Totosai's forge, forcing upon her body the same, unbearable pain that had been inflicted on her soul. In regret for not having been able to stop her, Totosai had granted her last request, and used her bones to form the enchanted sword Kagome now held.

Beside her, Anzu shifted under Six's unaccustomed weight, and Sesshoumaru took Holden into his arm, and within moments, they were off.


	21. The Quest for the Crest

I know you've been waiting. Here we go! Remember, this is Rumiko Takahashi's world. I just like to play here.

**The Quest for the Crest**

A curious peace settled over Kagome as Shippou sailed over the Florentine cityscape, over churches she had seen a dozen times in textbooks and articles, on art journal covers and calendars, and God knew what else. There was an ethereal beauty about the cathedrals, with their soaring spires and elegant lines, something that made her want to believe in something higher, something better. When she caught sight of the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, upon which the famous Brunelleschi had sweated and labored, her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she forgot that she was astride a five hundred year old Shippou, on an unbelievable mission to rob the spiritual leader of the Roman Catholic Church, in a last ditch effort to bring a silent, frozen Inuyasha back from a place she hadn't even believed in a month ago.

She must have moaned or whimpered with the pleasure of it, because Shippou suddenly dove lower and dropped well behind the others to allow her a better view.

"I'll bring you back here someday," he said, turning his muzzle so that his words carried back to Kagome alone. "Someday when we can spend whole weeks flying over the Italian cathedrals, and visit Florence and Rome for as long as it takes you to soak up everything there is to see. Then Venice, maybe. And Paris – you'd love Paris."

Kagome scratched at his shoulder. "I'd like that, Shippou. But how did you know?"

"I waited five hundred years for you to be born, Kagome." A mischievous, fang-bearing grin pulled at his lipless mouth. "I knew the minute you came into this world, and I know just about everything there is to know about you. Considering that you took four classes on Renaissance art, it didn't take a big leap to figure you'd appreciate the sights of Florence. Who do you think planned the flight path over Florence, just at sundown?"

Kagome laughed a little, partly amused, partly touched, and partly awed at the depth of Shippou's devotion to her.

She wrapped her arms around his big furry shoulders and squeezed. "I missed you so much, Shippou."

A short, barked laugh answered her. "Save it, sweetheart. We'll have lots of time after we wake the big dummy up."

The reference to Inuyasha brought her up short, leaving her feeling slightly guilty for enjoying the flight.

"I hope everything goes smoothly tonight," Kagome said fervently, still resting her face and cheek on Shippou's back. "I don't think I could stand for anything else to go wrong."

Shippou's big head swung back and forth. "I don't think Sesshoumaru can, either. He's juggling a lot of little balls right now. If he drops one, he's just going to lose it, and he doesn't exactly appreciate help."

Kagome stole a look at Holden, who rested comfortably in the crook of Sesshoumaru's arm, not even holding on to him, completely relying on his grip on her to keep her from falling. "I don't know about that," Kagome replied after a moment.

"Holden? Yeah, there's been something there for a long time," Shippou confirmed. "We'd probably all be a lot happier if he'd ever get around to screwing her."

"Shippou!"

"Sorry."

He didn't sound one bit apologetic.

The peace that Florence brought couldn't last forever, and they had soon passed the birthplace of the Renaissance in favor of the papal city. Vatican City wasn't nearly the sight Florence had been, but even so, with the brilliantly lit streets surrounding the palace, it wasn't at all unattractive, and it had a history all its own.

An ugly history, at times, she recalled, as her new awareness alerted her to the change that came over Sesshoumaru, Shippou, and Six when they set down in a dark corner several block from the main entrance of the Apostolic Palace. She tensed a little herself, suddenly fearful of things that could put greater demons on edge.

"You're frightening the little girl, boys. Relax already." Chizu's voice was silky smooth, but Kagome didn't miss the steely note in her tone.

"I'm okay, Chizu," Kagome objected weakly.

"No, you're not. But they should be." The fiery black kitsune turned a condescending glower upon the offending males.

Sesshoumaru ignored her, striding purposefully past her, even as he reached into his pocket for the mysterious coin that had the power to make him appear human. Six pulled a ball-cap from the denim jacket he was wearing and settled it over his ears. With a single POP all three kitsune changed their appearance just enough to hide their pointed ears and their tails.

"Don't you know to respect your elders?" Chizu asked saucily, falling into step immediately behind him, linking an arm through Holden's. Sesshoumaru continued to ignore her.

"Sesshy doesn't like to be corrected," Chizu said to no one in particular. "Juvenile brat."

Kagome watched Holden smother a grin, even as she hid one of her own behind her hand. Shippou didn't bother to conceal his merriment.

Anzu and Six both shot a disapproving glare at Shippou's wife, a shared look that Kagome noted with interest. Anzu seemed to be a grave, severe sort of girl, who probably simply didn't appreciate her mother's lighthearted treatment of what was, after all, a very serious operation. Six had a little case of hero worship where Sesshoumaru was concerned, and Kagome couldn't blame him. At some point in the past five hundred years, Sesshoumaru had learned to be a pretty decent elder brother.

As they made their way into the street, Sesshoumaru and Shippou led the way, pointedly ignoring the stinging jibes Chizu razzed him with. Kagome couldn't remember having ever met anyone like her, incredibly powerful, but mischievous rather than proud, willful and spirited rather than entitled, and unselfconsciously sensual. Maybe Kagura would have been like that, Kagome mused, if she had survived Naraku.

Kagome caught up with the Guardian and the vixen. The roguish kitsune winked at her, and impulsively linked arms with her and with Holden, so that, for awhile, the three women walked side-by-side behind Sesshoumaru. Shippou, who walked beside him, looked over his shoulder to flash a wicked grin at them. Anzu and Six fell behind, muttering darkly together.

"We're probably a little conspicuous, my dears." Chizu sighed theatrically. "Even at this hour, there are a few tourists about. I suppose the holiday's over. Serious business, you know, serious business." Schooling her features into a close approximation of Sesshoumaru's flat, hard stare, she relinquished her holds on Kagome and Holden.

"I'm rather surprised at you, Six, darling," she mused after awhile. A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an aggravated huff came from Sesshoumaru's general direction.

"I really didn't think you would take it this well," she continued. "Delightful creature; I shouldn't have underestimated you."

Six flushed; curiously, so did Anzu.

"I'm sorry?" Kagome looked between them.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks to stare at her, and it was her turn to redden under their stares.

"Did I miss something?"

* * *

It would be wolves, Inuyasha thought sourly, looking at the twin brats that growled warningly – but ineffectually – at him. It wasn't as if he hadn't had enough trouble with those mangy, flea-bitten scavengers. Luckily Rin had an almost magical touch in this misty realm, and one disappointed look from her silenced both of the snarling children almost immediately. When Inuyasha explained his plan to them, the boys' sour faces slowly transformed into vicious, feral grins, and they nodded enthusiastically when he asked for their help.

The other two children had an unfamiliar ancestry; Rin told him they were from other continents, whatever that meant. One, the eldest of the four, reminded him of Abi, the fire-bird princess. Her skin was a deep, warm brown, her hair thick and black and coarse, and wings of pure fire spread from her back. Dark eyes flashed with a hatred that resonated deeply with old, half-forgotten memories, and though Inuyasha could foresee a clash of wills, he also felt as though he understood her best of the four children.

The youngest, whose parents had both been half-demons, could not have been but three or four years old. Inuyasha had never encountered such an elusive, shy child. At first, he could not even sense her presence. Neither Rin nor the fire girl could charm her out of the shadows, so he was surprised when his sharp, careless bark coaxed her out. She was some kind of nature or flower spirit, a slight, insubstantial creature, all big green eyes and long, wispy tendrils of baby-fine blonde hair.

Despite the little one's initial timidity, Inuyasha felt pretty confident in all of the children. The older three were all clever, all thirsty to prove themselves against their old adversaries, but the little one, Chuqui-llantu, interested him, too. She stayed close at his side, shying away from the rowdy half-wolf twins and the fiery older girl, and even Rin. The little girl barely came to his knees, and buried her face in his pant leg whenever the others came too near. Why she found his presence more comforting than anyone else's was a mystery, but though her attachment to him left him feeling more than a little awkward, there was something pleasant about it as well.

The twins, Makoto and Naoto, evidently hadn't been infected with the same superiority complex that damn Kouga had, because they took to him pretty quickly. They were rough and tumble sorts of boys, not unlike Inuyasha himself, and as soon as he saw that he wasn't going to have the same kinds of trouble with them that he'd encountered with that damn Kouga, he realized he actually kind of liked the rambunctious pair.

Bennu, the eldest, he had trouble with, if only because she was in some ways too like him, strong-willed and independent, and in others completely different. She wanted detailed facts and plans of attack, and neither he nor Rin could answer all of her questions, mostly because he hadn't thought about it. He more or less intended to charge right in and play it by ear – that wasn't good enough for Bennu. Rin showed her how to view the goings-on of the outside world, and she immediately settled in to scry out prime targets. After showing Makoto and Naoto how to do the same, he tried to hand off little Chuqui-llantu to Rin. The little girl would have none of it, however, and clung to his hand with surprising strength.

He conceded the battle with more decorum than he once might have, and felt a slight quirk of a smile tug at his mouth as she slipped into his lap.

As Chuqui-llantu – Chu, he'd decided, unable to pronounce the long name – nestled into his robe, he reached for _her_, sensing that something was awry. She wasn't hurt, no, not even frightened, but she was upset. Very upset.

* * *

"_What_?"

A pair of tourists turned their heads at Kagome's horrified shriek; the demons around her flinched at the high pitched wail.

"I thought they," Sesshoumaru said, raising a finger in Chizu's direction, "were going to tell you."

"I thought he," Chizu retorted, snapping her head toward Six, "was going to be the problem."

"I told you she wouldn't take it well either." He didn't look disturbed at all, damn him.

Anzu shook her head, almost as indifferent as Seshsoumaru. "Mother said not to tell Six until the appropriate time. No one ever said anything about her."

"Oh, I like that," Kagome snapped, blinking back tears. "That… that… _bastard_ beat me nearly to death, shot me, and sent Inuyasha to never never land, and no one even thought about me when they found out that he… that…" Something that wasn't quite a growl or a groan or a whine forced its way through her nose.

"I thought s/he told her!" Shippou and Six blurted out defensively, at exactly the same time. The looks of mortification on their faces would have been amusing beside Anzu's impatiently knitting brows and Sesshoumaru's bored frown, had the situation been less serious.

"So, what, so the Hand can bring people back from the dead now, is that it? Or are they just freaking immortal? You said," she wailed, turning on Six, "you said you killed him!"

"I did!" The hanyou stepped back, hurt evident in his golden eyes.

"It's something we'll have to investigate later. Our current mission is fairly critical, as I recall," Holden reminded them. "Seven is a concern for another time."

Chizu nodded her agreement. "Darling, he'll get what's coming to him. I'll personally ensure it, this time." Bright eyes narrowed cruelly, she turned her palm upward for Kagome to see the dancing green flame that sat upon it.

"This time, we won't be taking any chances." The kitsune sauntered up beside Sesshoumaru, who was already leaving them behind. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, right, Sesshy, dear?"

The demon lord turned to look at her, a long, level stare that was somehow more frightening than the worst of Inuyasha's glares.

Chizu raised a shoulder, a fluid, sensual movement, along with a perfectly sculpted, wicked eyebrow. "Was there something, Sesshoumaru? Or were you just admiring the view?"

Shippou snickered, and then threw Sesshoumuru a wolfish grin. "You can't beat her. Give up."

Kagome fell in behind them, staring at her hands.

"Odds are, we won't even encounter him here." Somehow, Anzu had slipped up beside her. The young woman tried an encouraging smile, but it wasn't especially convincing. She must have known it, too, because she quickly abandoned it for a less familiar, more serious guise.

"Reconstruction is a time-consuming and risky business. He probably isn't fit to fight the pope, let alone four demons, two guardians, and a half-demon. I apologize for the… miscommunication."

Six settled into step beside Anzu. "I didn't realize no one had told you Seven had been spotted. I'm really sorry, ace. But Anzu's right, you know, it'll be awhile before we see him again. And no one's going to let him get away a second time."

He and Anzu shared a look, and the young lady moved up to walk with Holden and her mother.

"I won't let him hurt you again, I swear." His voice was quiet as he reached for her hand. "And I won't let him get near Inuyasha, either."

Kagome pulled her hand free. "Why is he back?" She heard the desperation in her voice and tried to swallow it down.

Six's expression became pained. "I don't know. This isn't easy for me, either. I'd just come to terms with killing him."

Naruku's image flashed into Kagome's mind. It had been months since she'd last thought about that monster.

"They… just don't die," she said, hysteria dying into bewilderment. "They just… don't… die."

"Seven will not be an issue." After several minutes of stony silence, Sesshoumaru spoke. Kagome thought she heard echoes of her own frustration in his tone; at any rate, his voice was raised enough to indicate that he expected the conversation to be over.

"I suppose you'll going to do it, this time," Chizu said wickedly, wriggling her claws at him. "That's alright. I'm not picky; I'll take out the trash."

Sesshoumaru paused, but said nothing.

"We're attracting attention, children," Holden said sharply to Kagome and Six. Her eyes scanned the isolated groups of tourists milling about the street, and as Kagome followed her shifting gaze, she noticed a number of curious stares pointed in their direction.

"Kagome." Shippou dropped back to walk beside her. Up ahead, the Vatican loomed, somehow much bigger in person than it had seemed in her textbooks. Shippou pulled her under his arm, and he was also much, much bigger than it seemed he should be.

"I'm sorry about Seven, sweetheart. It's been a hellish couple of weeks, planning this maneuver, and I dropped the ball there. So I apologize. But you don't need to worry about him, alright? We've got you covered."

Six's warm smile and friendly eyes glowed somewhere off to her right. Chizu grinned viciously, oozing confidence. Anzu looked back and managed a genuine smile.

Kagome's eyes, however, were glued to the back of Sesshoumaru's head. Holden crossed her arms and slid a surreptitious ankle around the demon lord's feet, and finally he relented, looking over his shoulder to meet Kagome's pleading gaze with a level stare.

"Seven won't be an issue," he repeated. They held each other's eyes briefly, and then Kagome ran to him.

* * *

Even demon lords get surprised, sometimes. Sesshoumaru couldn't control the jaw-drop that the little girl's gesture provoked, and he had to struggle to school his features into something remotely acceptable. It proved doubly difficult, because in some ways, he was still the man he had been all those years ago, cold and remote, and proud of his aloofness, and in some ways he wasn't that man at all. A decided portion of his mind insisted on retaining that image, one in keeping with his dignity as a powerful demon. Another was secretly, almost ashamedly pleased with the girl's eager response to his simple promise.

She'd embraced him. Darted out of the kitsune's arms, right past Six and even Holden (who, damn her, was grinning), and flung her skinny little arms right around his midsection, pressing her slender frame and uncomfortably soft bosom into his back. And then she squeezed. And then she wouldn't let go.

A number of voices, each of them his own, screamed inside his head as to the proper response, the proper procedure. He could rip his claws through her unprotected back – now a Guardian, it would barely faze her. He could throw her backward, but that would attract even more attention than her sudden embrace had. Somewhere in the din, he heard Rin's voice, and he strained for it, too confused to trust his own natural response.

Not that he liked her suggestion much better. Sighing, he chose to listen to that quiet, gentle guidance that had somehow survived these past five hundred years.

He managed to turn around, so that her face was buried in his chest rather than his back, and looked down at the top of her dark head in consternation. Settling his arm around her, he waited for the obvious response.

Kagome's head popped up, her face turned upward to search his, incredulity and gratitude vying for dominance in her mind. He didn't give her a chance to ask questions, but dropped a very quick, very sedate, very chaste kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes became very wide, and tears spilled over their heavy black lashes. She squeezed briefly once again, and released him. He turned to continue on to the Vatican; she fell in beside him, step-for-step.

Sesshoumaru didn't dare look back.


	22. The Apostolic Palace

Hi, everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted, and (I hate to say it) it's probably going to be pretty slow going for awhile longer. I haven't been particularly pleased with the last few chapters, and so, although I will continue to progress with the story – I owe you guys that much – I'm also going to be reworking earlier chapters as I go. I feel as though I've missed important points and left loopholes in the plot, and I really can't conscience leaving it the way it is. For those that are interested, I'll always leave a note at the beginning of each new chapter indicating what previous chapters have been revised. As always, Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

But on to the main event…

**The Apostolic Palace**

Chuqui's massive green eyes were wary as she regarded her new friend. He was distant, his mind engaged elsewhere, and had settled into an uncharacteristically pensive silence. The peculiar clarity that had overcome Inuyasha since his awakening had abated only a little, and the multifarious emotions that Kagome's shock and pain provoked in him were profound. Fury with the creature called Seven vied for dominance in his soul, struggling against his aggravation with Sesshoumaru and the others, who ought to have warned her that the bastard still lived. The weight of the knowledge that he could do nothing to alleviate her current distress was crippling. And yet, these feelings, anger and frustration and remose, these were familiar.

In the mist, however, he could discern more subtle emotions, emotions which, had he been in that outside world, he would have suppressed so deeply that he would never have owned them. There was a grudging affection for Shippou and his rather remarkable family, and for Sesshoumaru and the odd collection of individuals he had come to regard as his own. An overwhelming love, poignant with guilt, swelled within him for Kagome. Along its leading edge, he sensed the presence of the demoness Nanao, and her own bitter love. Startled, he felt the demoness stir in response to the surge of emotion within him.

A whispered promise, an oath to shield and protect that which was most precious to him, echoed back from the cold steel forged from the bones of sorrow. He once again reluctantly drew his mind from the woman he loved, entrusting her to the soul of one who knew the pain of love even better than he himself did.

Chuqui eyed him suspiciously from her nest in his lap, and he managed a weak smile.

_Did you want something?_ he asked by way of apology.

She stretched out her arms to him, and he embraced her, surprised at how easily the gesture came to him. There was no reservation about such things in this place. She wanted his affection, and to his surprise, he found himself perfectly willing to give it. He wondered briefly if he would retain his strange lack of inhibition if and when he returned to that other world.

He doubted it, and the doubt saddened him.

* * *

Kagome blinked incredulously, and slipped a hand inside her trench coat for the sword belted at her side. The hilt felt curiously warm beneath her fingertips, as though another's hand had been resting on it. A funny tingle shivered up her arm and brought tears to her eyes; it was like holding Inuyasha's hand again.

_He's thinking of you, child_, the sword whispered. _Even now, his desire to protect you drives him forward, to ever seek a path that will reunite him with you. Do not despair_.

Kagome's lips curled back into a small smile. It wasn't much, that vague sensation of Inuyasha's familiar presence, but it was more than she had felt in a long time, and it was enough

"There." Shippou pointed, pulling her from her reverie. An opening in the grey stone lay before them, one of the many service doors that provided access to the Apostolic Palace. Two young men, with dark complexions and black hair, stood on either side of it.

"The Papal Apartments, and the library we need to get into, are on the top floor – the third floor. We'll need to head that direction," he pointed again, "once we're inside. There is a small stairway near that door that will take us up to the second floor, but after that, things are going to get trickier. We'll have to maneuver through a number of churchmen and probably guards as well."

He frowned. "Actually," he corrected, "you four are going to have to deal with them. Anzu, Chizu, and I will be providing an illusory cover for you. Disguising ourselves is one thing; disguising others is considerably more difficult. While we're holding up those illusions, we won't be able to do much more than show you where to go."

"Is there any chance we could encounter the Hand?" Six crossed his arms, worry evident in his face. "Ordinary soldiers and security men won't be a problem, but running across a pseudo-Guardian might complicate matters."

"Of course it's possible," Chizu said unconcernedly. "Anything's possible. But likely? I doubt it. That green-eyed snot of a brother of yours is quite the genius. If anyone can prevent his cyber-trails from being followed, it's that one."

Even as Shippou shook his head, Holden spoke up. "I must disagree with you, Chizu. I believe that you are correct about Hannibal's digital prowess, but I also know that the Hand has long made a habit of keeping a few of their senior members near His Holiness. We will most likely have the advantage of surprise, if indeed we should encounter one of them, but they have established a presence here, I feel certain."

"Lovely," Six said sourly.

Chizu's eyes narrowed. "You didn't say anything about that to me, Shippou. Yet, obviously you knew something about it."

"There's a reason for that," Shippou replied mildly.

"And what might that be?"

"You tend to jump the gun sometimes, dear. I didn't want you to get carried away if we ran into someone suspicious-looking."

The feisty vixen glared at him, but didn't argue the point.

Sesshoumaru, who had been waiting patiently, once more became bored with the ins and outs of Shippou's domestic disputes, and he abandoned them, pressing on. Two thuds indicated that the pair of young men who had been guarding the door were now sleeping on its stoop.

Kagome suppressed a smile and followed him inside. The stairs Shippou had mentioned were down a short hall and on the left. Sesshoumaru strolled into the stairwell as if he had known precisely where it was all along.

The stairwell was old and narrow, and they were forced to ascend the rickety stairs single-file. Sesshoumaru led, followed closely by Holden and Kagome. Six and Anzu came behind, leaving Shippou and his wife to bring up the rear.

At the top of the stairs, Sesshoumaru swung open the door, suddenly surging forward to strike the person who appeared before them. The attack was sleek and long, and recalled a number of unpleasant experiences from Kagome's youth.

Holden pursed her lips as they congregated around the fallen young nun. "Was that truly necessary?"

Sesshoumaru handed the girl off to his partner. "She would have screamed."

Kagome breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that the young woman was only unconscious. She had become so accustomed to her heightened senses that it no longer surprised her to search for the sound of a beating heart, or the slightest movement behind closed eyelids. Holden took the nun and gently laid her on the landing at the top of the stairs. She closed the door behind her and moved to join Sesshoumaru.

"Alright." Shippou closed his eyes and was silent for a moment. Opening his eyes again, he gestured along the hallways and began to speak.

"We'll head along this corridor for a good long ways. We're going to separate a little bit, so as to be a little less conspicuous. Six, Anzu, Chizu and I will be monks, on a pilgrimage to the Holy City. As I said before, the three of us aren't going to be much help, because most of our energy is going to go toward keeping us all concealed. Six will be our protection, should we need it." Six nodded and moved a little closer to Anzu.

"Ana will appear to be a lone nun," Shippou continued, "bridging the gap between us and Sesshoumaru and Kagome." He smiled briefly at Holden. "I'm sure you can imitate a sister on a mission."

"Sesshoumaru, you'll be a cardinal, with your assistant." He gestured at Kagome. "Just stay close behind him, Kagome, and keep your head down. If anything goes wrong, you'll be protected."

Kagome fingered Nanao's hilt. "I think I'll be alright."

He nodded. "Also, bear in mind that we're only going to be disguised through the first floor and part of the second. After that, silence and speed are going to become pretty critical."

"Time is already an issue, Father," Anzu said meaningfully. "Shall we proceed?"

"I was just getting to that," Shippou retorted, his tone a little defensive. "There is a timed security mechanism that cuts off access to the papal apartments after eleven pm. It's just after eight, now, but we need to be out of apartments, and preferably out of the palace, before eleven."

He stretched his hands out before him, and his fingers locked together to create a peculiar form. Chizu and Anzu immediately followed with the same strange gesture.

"Alright, then, boys and girls," Chizu said brightly. "Off we go."

The three kitsune and Six started down the corridor in pairs, looking for all the world like four Dominican monks, cowls and all. Kagome noticed with a small smile that Six and Anzu stayed very close. After a moment, Holden followed them, with a brisk, purposeful pace. The kitsune had changed very little of her physical appearance, only lengthened her nose a little and broadened her mouth, but she wore the customary habit of a nun.

Sesshoumaru was perfect as a cardinal, dignified and composed. He waited, absolutely still, until Holden was well ahead of him, and then Kagome had to hurry to stay close on his heels. It proved difficult to match his long strides. They continued down the hall for what seemed like a very long time, until Shippou tapped the wall beside him to indicate that they should make a turn.

As they walked, they passed a number of churchmen and staff. Few took any notice of them, and when they did, it was almost inevitably Sesshoumaru who attracted their attention. Shippou's disguise was a good match for him, Kagome mused, because Sesshoumaru wore power as easily now as ever he had, power he claimed both as a birthright and as his just dues for his considerable talents. The easy grace of the wellborn suited the mock cardinal.

She lifted her eyes from Sesshoumaru's boots long enough to catch a glimpse of Shippou's red hair. Little Shippou was over five hundred years old, now, grown and married with three children. The transformation was mind-boggling. The child that had once hidden behind her skirts – literally – was now a man. And not only a man, but a good man, and one skilled enough and intelligent enough to be respected by the likes of Sesshoumaru.

As if he knew she was watching him, he glanced behind him momentarily and winked at her. Something in the sly humor in his eyes made her think of Miroku. She pictured Shippou watching Miroku's endless conniving, learning from it, imitating it. Something of her old friends had been preserved, and she was grateful for it.

Shippou stopped at the end of the second hallway, which was devoid of people, and gestured for the others to join him.

"We're about to get into parts of the palace that even good, ordinary Church people like ourselves have no business being. We're going to drop off our disguises here, and just try to get to the papal apartments quickly. There will be more guards, and fewer passers-by to blend in with, so there's really not much point in trying to hide anymore. If we run into anyone, we must take them down immediately. Gently, of course. The last thing we need is a death in the palace."

He took his daughter by the hand. "Anzu and I will scout ahead and deal with anyone who could potentially block your way. Chizu will act as rearguard, staying well back to make sure no one sneaks up behind us."

Holden pursed her lips. "I don't know that care for all of these doors, Shippou." She gestured down the hallway. Every few feet, another door opened into the corridor. "It seems awfully chancy."

The kitsune raised his hands helplessly, releasing Anzu. "I considered using a prankster spell to lock them all from this side, but anyone trapped would probably make a lot of noise. Sesshoumaru's reflexes are good, though. A good gasp is all I would expect anyone to get out."

"They'll remember us, though, won't they? We don't exactly need a Hand informant seeing us here." Kagome surprised herself by raising the point.

Anzu shook her head, and long auburn locks spilled into her face. "I'm fairly skilled at manipulating what people see. I can't make us disappear entirely, I'm afraid, but I will be able to leave dreams that are real enough that they won't be able to distinguish reality from fantasy."

"Everyone knows what to do, so let's be on our way." Shippou and Anzu morphed into small, insect-like creatures, and buzzed forward and out of sight.

Shippou's plans worked out perfectly. Twice someone emerged from the doors that had so worried Holden; but Sesshoumaru moved more quickly than they could speak. Once someone managed to bypass Chizu and come from behind them, but Six was upon him before he had a chance to raise an alarm. Kagome stayed near Sesshoumaru, loosely gripping Nanao's hilt, and hoping her old friend and his daughter were having equally good luck.

* * *

Shippou found the door he had been looking for, and curse under his breath. It was a pretentious sort of door, fashioned entirely from bronze and decorated with brilliantly executed scenes from the Old Testament. The door itself hadn't aroused Shippou's ire, however. No, it was the half dozen guards with semi-automatic rifles that were formed up around it that upset him.

He darted around a corner to resume his usual form. "Wonderful," he grunted. "They'll be missed the first time someone comes through here and wonders why the guards have all vanished."

"I could stay behind," Anzu offered, also assuming her normal form, "and create the illusion of guards."

" 'Fraid not, sugar. Just because the church forbids the practice of magic, it doesn't mean there's no one left to recognize it. And you're a lot more likely to find someone who could do it this high up in the hierarchy."

"And the dreams I've been planting behind us?"

"Not an issue. Someone might very well recognize it for magic, but it won't be until long after we're gone. And I doubt anyone would be able to trace it back to us. Any real magic the Church had is long gone, siphoned off into splintered sects and into the Hand."

"If you say so, Father. We're using a lot of magic as it stands, though, so I don't see how a little more could hurt."

"Once we get into the papal apartments, we won't be using magic at all, not unless we're in some serious trouble. This is just too close for comfort, sweetheart. Besides, we've been within range of help with every bit of magic we've used so far."

She shrugged noncommitally, and he didn't blame her for her doubts. He just had a bad feeling about leaving her alone with a complex illusion; the magic was just too damn recognizable. If Holden was right, and there were Hand members nearby, it was only too possible that one of them might know the unique signature of kitsune magic.

Anzu raised her pert, sharp nose to sniff delicately at the air. "The others are coming. Should I warn them?"

"Yes." Shippou bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. "Yes, hold them back for awhile, but tell them to be ready to make a break for those doors. I think a simple distraction is the ticket here, but it won't last forever. Wait for me."

He caught her one of her hands up in his and brought it to his lips. "Stay safe."

She huffed irritably, but he didn't miss softening of her usually tight mouth, or the faint worry in her eyes as he buzzed off once again.

Taking off down the corridor, careful not to arouse the attention of the guards, he zoomed forward, looking for a very particular kind of person. It wasn't long before he found precisely what he needed to pull off his little diversion.

The sister was sitting awkwardly in her chair, obviously waiting to see someone. She was a small, pouchy-looking woman in her forties, one of those fussy, fidgety women who are prone to excitability, and, Shippou hoped, to hysteria. He landed on the wall near her head.

Shippou had tried to see Kagome often, particularly after the destruction of the well, and often he had slipped into her bedroom to watch her sleep. Some of those nights, he corrected her homework, or thumbed through her textbooks so that he might be able to correct an exam as well, should she require assistance. Now, he tried to picture the most terrible demons he had seen in her Renaissance studies textbooks, something that would be recognizable to the nervous woman sitting beside him. Grinning inwardly, he settled himself into character.

"I have come for the last bastion of human hope, woman," he growled in Italian. "Where is he, the mouthpiece of God?" Forming himself into a vaguely human form, with blood running from his sharpened teeth, he appeared beside her. He gripped a human arm tightly in the six fingers of his left hand, an arm that jumped and writhed artfully in his grip.

As expected, the woman panicked and bolted straight for the guards at the bronze door. He transformed himself back into the fly, and watched as she burbled and blubbered and cried about the six fingered maniac who wanted to kill His Holiness. Four of the guards had charged off down the hall to investigate, back to where he had left a short-lived illusion of fake blood that led from the woman's chair further down the corridor.

Racing down the corridor, still an insect, he passed the remaining two guards and turned the same corner he and Anzu had hidden behind. Letting loose with a bloodcurdling howl, he waited for the other guards to pursue him. He led them on until he heard the soft _whoosh_ of the bronze door opening and closing, which told him the others were safely in the stairway.

He then left off his screaming, leaving the guards very upset and and even more confused, to rejoin Sesshoumaru, Six, Kagome, and his family.

"That was you, causing that racket, Shippou?" Six's ears were pressed flat against his head, his mouth twisted with distaste. Everyone in the stairwell was glaring at him, except Sesshoumaru, who considered himself above such behavior. Even the demon lord's shoulders held a tension that belied his irritation, however. Kagome was rubbing her ears.

"Ow." She wrinkled her nose. "I appreciate your getting rid of the guards, Shippou, but did you have to scream? A scary moan would have done just as well."

"Everyone's a critic." He shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes, but it's a matter of style, dear," Chizu said condescendingly, and reached out to tweak one of his pointed ears.

"Shippou." Sesshoumaru turned just enough to view the kitsune from the corner of his eye. "What are we going to find at the top of the stairs?"

"Probably a similar set-up, half-dozen or so armed men waiting at the doors to the papal apartments. Security's pretty tight; could be that there's been a death threat recently. It happens every now and again." He heard the guards return, muttering and complaining amongst themselves.

"Time to go," he said quietly, and led the way up the stairs.

* * *

"I thought I felt kitsune. It's been such a long time that I couldn't be sure."

Sesshoumaru immediately dove on the speaker, but, much to his dismay, she vanished under his touch and reappeared at the top of the stairs.

"There's no need for that, demon lord. I have no quarrel with you." The nun looked to be no older than Kagome. Dark tendrils of curly hair escaped her wimple, and she was quite pretty. He lunged at her again, and again, she evaded him.

"Bonifacia." Holden's lips curled back in a fair approximation of Sesshoumaru's own worst snarl. He winced inwardly as his heart began to race. The sight of Holden in fighting trim never failed to stir things in him that he had never felt before, not even with Rin. His physical relationship with his wife had always been satisfying, but somehow... sedate. Her body represented something sacred to him, and he had exercised the utmost restraint with it. Holden's body represented something else entirely, and when she was raw and angry and primitive, like she was now, it roused things within that he didn't want to think about.

"Peace, sister." The nun raised her right hand, and the distraction permitted him to calm himself somewhat. "The Hand and I parted ways long ago. I swear, I mean you no harm."

"You murdered your son." Holden's snarl remained in place, her prim façade now completely stripped away. "Your oath is worthless."

"I repent my sins every day, Anastasia Holden-Truelove. As you yourself do. And while I know I can never atone for the misdeeds of my youth, I have spent the last three hundred years protecting those who truly serve God."

Sesshoumaru held himself absolutely still as the woman's dark eyes passed over him, over the kitsune, and finally came to rest on Kagome. Her eyes dropped to Kagome's belly, which bulged slightly with the life that had begun to take root within her.

"I am sorry, young one." She sounded it, too. But the Hand was nothing if not cunning.

Kagome's hand moved to rest on her abdomen. The other drew Nanao from her sheath. Instantly, Nanao appeared beside her.

Nanao. Not Inuyasha. Sesshoumaru intuitively relaxed. Nanao was formed specifically to recognize and counter threats. If this woman had intended Kagome any harm, Nanao would have taken the form of Kagome's protector.

"You think we can trust her, Nanao?" he asked, careful to keep his tone moderate.

"The bones of sorrow recognize pain," Nanao answered, nodding her head at the woman at the top of the stairs. "In that one dwells the everlasting torment of a mother who has outlived her child."

The pseudo-Guardian bowed her head. Behind him, Holden's armor of polite niceties and good breeding reasserted itself, to his relief. "Then that is a pain we have shared, Bonifacia. Now, if you please, let us pass."

"Pascual Guerrero is here."

Holden blanched. "Guer… Guerrero? Here?"

Sesshoumaru cursed inwardly.

"Who is Guelle… Guerel… who is he?" Kagome struggled with the rolled "r"s and gave up, looking to Holden for an explanation.

"He is one of a group of six men who managed to attain many of the remarkable powers as Guardians, including longevity. No one knows exactly how they did it."

"That is an untruth. I know how they did it. It is every bit as despicable as you would imagine it. You were fortunate to have left before the Twelve Zealots took charge of the Children of His Left Hand."

"Twelve zealots… twelve apostles?" Kagome mused quietly.

Sesshoumaru glanced at her before turning to Holden. "Guerrero would be a problem, I assume."

Bonifacia answered for her. "Not only would he be a difficult opponent, even for a group of your… diverse… skills, but he will most certainly discern your presence the moment you pass into the boundaries of the papal apartments. The Zealots consider it one of their duties to oversee the security of His Holiness, and have surrounded his residence with barriers." There was a distinct disdain in her tone, not for Sesshoumaru and those with him, but for the Zealots.

"Magic?" Holden demanded. "That's forbidden." Had the situation been less dire, Sesshoumaru mused, her uncharacteristic naiveté would have been amusing.

"So was sleeping with demons, if you recall, my dear," Bonifacia answered drily. "The Hand is interested in ends, not means."

"We have to get inside," Kagome said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Why?" Bonifacia asked. The question was reasonable enough, but a wary sharpness in her eyes belied her interest in their motives.

Sesshoumaru eyed all three women thoughtfully, and said nothing, waiting to see what would unfold. Six shifted his weight, impatient, and he shot a warning look back to tell him to cease fidgeting. Instinctively, he knew the peculiar interplay between the three Guardians held the key to achieving his own ends, and he stepped down, allowing Kagome to take his place beside Holden. Nanao stood by, silent, patient, and watchful.

"It isn't your concern," Holden answered.

"We need the Lily Crest," Kagome said, at exactly the same time.

Sesshoumaru almost swallowed his own tongue, and if the gasps and grunts of surprise behind him were any indication, no one else had expected Kagome to answer with their entire purpose for being in the papal city. A wrong word could ruin their chances of ever finding Urban VIII's stolen book and the symbol that represented the Lily Crest. His fingers twitched, ready to shred the ex-Hand operative above them.

And then the Higurashi girl.

Nanao chuckled softly beside him. "Direct, isn't she? Down, boy. I would hate to turn the bones of sorrow against you. Besides, hadn't you already decided to allow her to play this out?"

"The Lily Crest," Bonifacia said slowly. Her eyes wondered to Holden. "You still bear the Rose Crest, do you not?"

Holden pressed her lips together tightly and said nothing.

"The only use for the Crests is the return of someone wrongfully condemned to Purgatory," the woman reasoned. "Who?"

Sesshoumaru commanded his convulsing fingers to be still. They ignored him.

"The man I love. And Sesshoumaru's daughter." Bonifacia looked as stunned as Sesshoumaru felt. Kagome had just revealed the existence of a daughter he had striven for years to keep hidden. The Hand had located Inuyasha, had used his own brother against him. What could they do with his daughter?

"The demon lord Sesshoumaru's daughter lives? Truly?"

"No," Sesshoumaru grated, furious with Higurashi, and equally furious with the anger that leaked into his tone. "That would be our motive for finding the Crest, wouldn't it?" It didn't matter anymore, anyway. He would have to kill the woman. And the Higurashi girl would be very, very lucky if he managed not to kill her, too.

Breathing heavily with the shock, Bonifacia shook her head. "The Crest isn't here. I know that the Zealots are forbidden to bear it, and that the last Guardian to hold it was Dominica Ortega, but that was fifty years ago, now."

Holden sighed, evidently deciding to be frank, as Kagome had already laid out all of their cards. "We're looking for the symbol. No one knows what it looks like, anymore. It's a start."

Kagome nodded gratefully at her, mistaking her sudden cooperativeness for capitulation. "The name of the book is…" she frowned, thinking hard, "_On Religious Symbolism: Motifs, Emblems, and Other Catholic Figurations Pertaining to the Age of the Apostles and that of the Apologists, As Derived from Greek Texts of the Third Century after the Death of Our Lord Jesus Christ_, by Maccognano."

Bonifacia stared at the landing beneath for feet, and the whole company waited in silence. Beside him, he felt rather than saw Nanao stir.

The ex-Hand sister raised her face. "I will return with the book shortly."

Holden looked as if she would object, but Bonifacia put a hand up to silence her. "They will know if a Guardian other than myself were to enter those barriers. And they would certainly be alerted to the presence of a demon, or half-demon. I am a lone penitent, they will not question me."

"And we are to trust you," Holden asked sarcastically, "murderer?"

"I am trusting you," she replied simply. "It would be a very easy matter for you to reveal who it was that helped you obtain the information you seek, if they were to capture you. Even if they don't, if they that you were here, they will know who warned you of their traps."

"Or you could lead them straight back to us." Holden crossed her arms. "Could you not?"

"I trust her." Kagome's voice was very quiet. Her fingers clenched the fabric of her trench coat over her belly. "He trusts her."

That hung on the air between the Guardians. Sesshoumaru glanced at Nanao, who still seemed watchful, but not especially concerned about the woman at the top of the stairs.

He did not want to trust the self-styled penitent. Her kind had destroyed everything – everything – he had ever come to hold dear. His precious Rin. His only child. The brother he had finally begun to accept. His fingers stilled, locked themselves into place, and the poison for which he had been so well-known in his youth began to swell beneath his claws.

Holden shifted just slightly, but the movement brushed her arm across Sesshoumaru's, and his rigid fingers relaxed. She too, had been one of them. She had changed, and what was more, she had changed him. They craved atonement, the two of them, for their failures. It was possible that Bonifacia felt those same longings. Perhaps.

"Do not fail us, woman," Sesshoumaru said. "She trusts you. I have done worse than to trust her. But know this: your life hangs in the balance. Betray us, and I will take you to the very gates of Hell again and again, and never let you pass."

"My life is of little use to me," Bonifacia said with a sad smile. "If it will do you some good, you are welcome to it." With that, she reached behind her to open the door, and stepped out, leaving them to wait, painfully suspended between hope and uncertainty.


	23. Flight

Hey, so it wasn't three months between updates. Gotta keep you guessing, after all. Sorry you haven't seen much of Inuyasha lately, he'll show up in the next chapter, I promise.

Also, some of you have noticed that throughout the story, Sesshoumaru seems to have regrown an arm. I started this fic almost a year and a half ago. For those of you who are in the know, enough said. For everyone else, I will fix it, I promise.

As always, this is Rumiko Takahashi's world.

**Flight**

"This sucks," Six announced. Sesshoumaru drew a deep breath, a telltale indicator that the demon lord was annoyed. Kagome felt sympathetic. It had to go against his instincts to trust the ex-Hand sister, and she was flattered that he had deferred to her.

"We are all well aware of that, Six," Holden said wearily. "But if there is the slightest chance she speaks truly, we absolutely cannot go on. Risking a confrontation with Guerrero is – "

"Madness." Chizu finished the thought and shuddered. "That one frightens even me, and there aren't many men who can claim that distinction."

Anzu seated herself on the stairs. "I don't suppose I've ever heard him mentioned." Her tone was questioning.

"That's because he's been underground for much of the last hundred years. Guerrero is an exorcist of the highest caliber, love," Shippou replied, sitting down beside her. "Physically, he's probably on a level with a half-demon or a Guardian, but that isn't what makes him so dangerous. What Seven did to Inuyasha is child's play compared to what that man can do with the faintest trace of a demonic aura."

The kitsune leaned his head back to peer up at Kagome. "A little like my favorite miko, with a vendetta and an evil temper."

"Like me?" Kagome started.

"Holy powers, like yours. But not an ounce of compassion. The man's been known to execute Hand members he believed to be too soft on demons – pretty much anyone who didn't find it necessary to torture their victims before destroying them. If that woman was telling the truth about her conversion, I wouldn't doubt that it came soon after he ascended into the ranks of the Zealots."

"A butcher," Chizu said softly.

"They're all butchers," Six said harshly.

Holden's eyes fell to her feet. "I'm sure a lot of them are simply misled," Kagome offered, looking away before the other Guardian could catch her gaze. "There's a definite appeal to believing that you're saving the world from evil. I imagine it's very easy to get caught up in that kind of delusion, when the lies are so pleasant."

Holden moved closer to her, and Kagome reached for her hand. She squeezed it a bit and waited for Holden's answering squeeze before releasing it.

"Let us assume that that woman is telling the truth, and that she will return with the manuscript we have been seeking." Chizu neatly changed the subject, eyes fixed on the door at the top of the staircase. "There is still the matter of our leaving the Vatican."

"We're going to make a mad dash to the nearest window below and take off," Shippou said firmly. "The guards have returned, but they won't be difficult to get rid of. One of Anzu's illusions ought to distract them long enough for us to get away."

Anzu pursed her lips, considering. "I've got just the thing." She glanced at Chizu. "Something Mother taught me long ago. It's perfect for this situation."

Sesshoumaru was listening intently at the top of the stairs, and Kagome went to join him, content to let the others discuss their escape. "Is she coming?" she asked quietly.

"We may be leaving in very short order," he told her, raising a hand toward Nanao. Even as he spoke, Nanao began to spin, and when she halted, Inuyasha's figure stood on the stairs below them, holding a sword identical to the one at Kagome's hip.

Everyone fell silent as the sounds of a struggle reached their ears.

"Shit," Shippou spat. "Anzu, go!" The young kitsune female flew swiftly and silently to the bottom of the stairs, where she raised her arms and performed that curious gesture with her hands.

Kagome smelled poison on Sesshoumaru's claws, felt the whoosh of air as Holden drew a pair of pistols from within her coat, saw the bracing in Six's shoulders. Chizu alone seemed undisturbed.

The door swung open. Sister Bonifacia stood at the top of the stairs, reaching for them. Blood stretched across the her wimple, a terrible, grinning maw two inches below her chin; her throat had been slashed open. In her outstretched hands was an ancient, fragile-looking manuscript. Kagome lunged for the nun, and for the book. Bonfacia sank in her arms, and they nearly fell down the stairs together.

"Oh, no," Kagome whispered, horrified. "Oh, gods."

The shouting above them became louder. Sesshoumaru carefully took the text from her. "We must go."

Holden ignored him and pushed him aside to kneel beside the fallen nun. "God forgive you, sister," she said quietly. "God save you."

Bonifacia's dark eyes were full of doubt and regret.

"I believe in redemption," Kagome told her, with all of the conviction she could muster, and tightened her arms about her. "I believe in forgiveness. I believe you have atoned." Holden nodded, evidently unable to speak.

The nun convulsed in Kagome's arms once, and then she was still.

Kagome looked helplessly at Holden. The tiny British lady trembled a little, barely containing herself, as she reached to close the sister's eyes.

"Put her down and come, the both of you, right now," Nanao demanded angrily. "Or you're going to end up the same way." The familiar crossness, the badly hidden hurt was all too familiar, and Kagome's habitual responses came more quickly than she could process them. She settled the sister on the stairs as gently and as quickly as she could, and took a grieving Holden by the arm, compelled by Inuyasha's voice.

"We have to go, Ana."

The guards at the bottom of the stairs were gone, lured off by whatever device Anzu had constructed. Kagome half-dragged Holden behind her, and left Sesshoumaru to bring up the rear. Just as they came to the door, however, the top door swung open again, and a hail of gunfire rained down the stairs after them.

Sesshoumaru managed to avoid being hit, but Holden cried out and doubled over as one of the bullets burrowed into her lower back. Kagome only just her as they tumbled out of the stairwell and onto the second floor.

The guards Anzu's illusion had drawn off heard the gunfire; Kagome could hear their confused shouting further down the hall. She pulled Holden's arm over her shoulders and stumbled after Chizu's angrily lashing tails.

Six materialized at her side. "She's hit?" he demanded, but didn't wait for an answer. "Shippou!"

The kitsune appeared from the corner just ahead. "The window is… shit! Ana!"

"It… it is… not bad," she said, through gritted teeth.

"Here, I've got you." He pulled the Guardian into his arms, wincing at her cry of pain. Holding the tiny woman as though she were a child, he started for the corner again. "Get Sesshoumaru!" he yelled behind him.

"He was right behind me!" Kagome's head spun as she whirled, looking for the demon. She didn't have long to look.

The guards had returned. The blood on Kagome's clothes was excuse enough to open fire.

"Go!" Six threw himself into the six men, ignoring the bullets that ripped through his clothing and into his body.

Kagome ran into the stairwell. The dead sister and a half-dozen other bodies littered the stairs. The stench of Sesshoumaru's poison was thick, his demonic aura pervaded the very air. "Watch my back!" she yelled back at the figure of Inuyasha, praying Nanao would stay with Six and fight the men behind her. Plunging onward, she struggled not to meet the unbelieving stares of the dead men.

"Sesshoumaru!"

He didn't answer, but gunfire further ahead exposed his presence on the third floor.

"Sesshoumaru, we have to get out of here! Now!" The door was blocked. She jerked it off of its hinges and hurled it down the stairs behind her. A blank-eyed corpse tumbled into her knees, the inadvertent doorstop that had impeded her path. There was blood everywhere, and her senses were wild with fear and fury, knowing that wherever Sesshoumaru was, he was completely berserk.

Chasing the blood and the screams and the gunfire, Kagome tried desperately to ignore the mangled bodies of the fallen. "Sesshoumaru!"

She found him at another ornate door, drenched in blood and breathing hard, not with exertion, but with exhilaration. A squirming guard twisted in midair, caught at the throat by the demon lord's claws. He was still very much alive, and terrified. "Sesshoumaru!"

The demon turned to her, and for the first time in years, Kagome felt the full force of his fury directed at her. He was in the middle of a kill, and she had interrupted him.

"Sesshoumaru, stop… please…" He glowered at her, incapable of reasoned thought.

"She's fine, Sesshoumaru," she pleaded, "but we have to get her out of here, have to get her someplace safe… Sesshoumaru, please, put him down, for gods' sakes put him down!"

The guard whimpered, eyes fixed on Kagome, praying for deliverance. She advanced on the demon and his prey slowly. "Please…"

Sesshoumaru snarled at her and tightened his grip on his victim. "Sesshoumaru…"

"You really think he's going to listen to you, little girl? That's a fool's hope." A man dressed in a long red robe appeared at the end of the hall, a peculiar smile on his face. Kagome shuddered. Evil rolled off of the man like smoke from a brush fire, seeping through his flesh and eyes.

"No matter. He is finished. And you will join him, soon enough."

The next few moments felt like an eternity. The man's smile grew, indifferent to the struggling guard, indifferent to the carnage. He began to chant, in that same, ugly language Seven had used at the Bandiagara complex. The chanting enraged Sesshoumaru, who threw his prey by the neck further down the hall. The fortunate guard scrambled to his feet and disappeared.

Snarls and growls rumbled through Sesshoumaru's mouth and nose, and he raised his bloodied claws to the man in red, digging a foot into the ground, preparing to launch himself at his tormentor. A power Kagome recognized, and feared, began to build in the chanting.

"Sesshoumaru!" she shrieked, feeling the power spiral out of control, too late to stop it, too late to do anything but prevent it from reaching its mark. She caught up with the demon, sidestepped in front of him, and caught the expulsion of the curse full on.

* * *

The shock brought him to his senses. The force of the curse had bowled them both over. She was unconscious. From her position, he saw that she must have taken a blow intended for him. Guerrero began to chant again, but with Holden and Kagome injured, the Zealot was going to have to wait for another time. Discernment being the better part of valor, he snatched up Kagome and followed the blood back to the stairs.

Six and Nanao were already on the third floor, obviously prepared to haul Sesshoumaru back bodily, if necessary. Nanao, in Inuyasha's guise, was immaculately clean. Six was bleeding heavily.

"Guerrero," Sesshoumaru spat, not bothering to explain further. Clamping a hand around Six's arm, he dragged the half-demon along as he shot down the corridor, unwilling to leave him anywhere near the formidable exorcist. An ugly guilt swelled in his belly as his fingers threatened to loose their grip on the clone, slick with his brother's blood and sweat.

Following Shippou was easy once he reached the bottom of the stairs; he followed the loathsome scent of Holden's blood.

"Damn you, Sesshoumaru." As Sesshoumaru rounded the corner to join the kitsune and his partner, Shippou drew a foot back and kicked out a floor-length window. Four dead men, two of them priests, lay in the hallway with them. "We shouldn't have had to kill anybody!"

Sesshoumaru bared his teeth, his blood still raging. Holden was slumped against the wall, conscious, but unfocused.

"She's shocky, dammit," Shippou growled, "but we can't deal with it here." He morphed into his true fox's form, and his wife and daughter followed suit. Six went to Anzu immediately and straddled her back. "What happened to Kagome?"

"Guerrero. The curse was meant for me; it shouldn't have any lasting effects on her."

"Fuck me." Shippou bared his own fangs. "Chizu! You'll have to ride double with her. Sesshoumaru, put her on and follow, and don't give me any shit about it, just do it!"

For once, Sesshoumaru couldn't take any offense at Shippou's manner, and he wordlessly handed Kagome off to Chizu. The vixen also kept her mouth closed, but if she were angry or simply being serious for once in her life, he couldn't tell. He gathered Holden up in his arms, and they were gone.

* * *

Shippou began to dive over the river Limmat, and landed in the Old Town district of Zurich, Switzerland, on the top of one of the taller buildings in the area. It was still dark and very foggy, so being seen hadn't been an issue. Sesshoumaru landed lightly on the building beside the kitsune.

"She still hasn't wakened."

Chizu, who had Kagome cradled in her arms, shook her head. "She hasn't stirred. What happened to her?"

Six dismounted clumsily, and fell beside Anzu, who immediately transformed and began stripping away his shirt. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she set about digging the bullets out of his flesh. He grit his teeth fiercely, but didn't cry out.

Sesshoumaru was watching the pair out of the corner of his eyes. "Guerrero tried to curse me. She couldn't stop him, so…" He gestured at Kagome.

"She did the only thing she could think of," Holden finished dully. "Put me down, Sesshoumaru."

The short journey had proven long enough for Holden's Guardian body to work its magic. Sesshoumaru set her down beside Six, and she sluggishly brought her knees to her chest, crossed her arms over her knees, and lowered her head to rest on her forearms, exhausted. Still, other than her obvious weariness, nothing but the blood remained as testimony to her injury.

Sesshoumaru hesitated only a moment before reaching out to take Kagome from Chizu. The vixen raised her eyebrows in a silent question, but shrugged and passed the girl to him. She swung a leg over Shippou and slid off his back, allowing him to regain his alternate, human-like form.

"Stupid child," Sesshoumaru said softly, watching the slow rising and falling of Kagome's chest.

"I'm sorry about that, back there." Shippou's tone was somber. "If it had been Anzu or Chizu, I would have responded the same way." The kitsune's two females shot disgusted glares at him, but he ignored them. So did Sesshoumaru.

Instead, he nodded briefly in acknowledgement, unwilling to pursue the subject further. It was a rare thing for the demon lord to experience fatigue, but he was tired, now. He seated himself on the concrete next to Holden, still holding Kagome.

"She'll be alright," Anzu said, almost dismissively, with a quick look at Sesshoumaru and his armful of human girl. Sesshoumaru fought back the urge to bare his teeth at the grave, distant young vixen. It was easy to do, once his quick eyes caught the gentleness with which she tended Six's wounds.

He looked back to the fox, who stood closely beside his mate, conferring quietly about what they ought to do next. He should have been included in their conversation, but he found himself uncharacteristically unaffected by the slight. Shippou had been right to be angry with him. He was angry with himself. His lack of control had exposed and endangered everyone else, and had cost a number of men their lives. The guards at the palace weren't necessarily Guerrero's men, or even Hand operatives, just ordinary people doing their jobs.

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

Kagome stirred, and her blue-gray eyes fluttered open. "Sesshou… maru?" She blinked. "Are you… are you okay?" she asked, speaking in Japanese. She'd taken to using English around the manor, and her command of the language had improved considerably, but he had noticed that when she was tired, or hurt, she reverted to her native tongue.

"_Daijoubu desu," _he replied quietly. After a moment, he added, "_Arigatou_."

She smiled faintly. "I feel like… a building fell on me," she confessed. "I'm sorry for… for being… so troublesome."

He shook his head. "We have the manuscript. Holden is safe. Six…" His eyes trailed to his brother, who smiled tiredly, then winced as Anzu dug out yet another bullet. "Six will be alright, as well."

"I think," she said, slurring slightly, "that I'm… I'm going…" Thick black lashes kissed her cheeks as she slid back into what seemed to be a peaceful slumber.

"We could all take a page out of her book," Chizu noted with a chuckle and a long, sensual stretch that brought her fingertips to her husband's. "We have a condo not far from here."

"We need to get that book into Hannibal's hands as quickly as possible," Holden disagreed. She spoke slowly and her voice sounded a little muffled; her face was still buried in her arms. She lifted her head. "I called Sumedha yesterday, so she should be at the estate by now. If there's any digital replication of the Lily Crest in any of the Hand's files, they'll find it."

"Then we press on." Shippou wasted no time; in seconds, he had returned to the form of a massive fox. Chizu followed suit. Her five black tails quivered with anticipation. For all their troubles, she seemed remarkably fresh. It was irritating, Sesshoumaru mused, but not entirely unpredicted. For all her buffoonery and brazenness, Chizu was a remarkably powerful creature.

"We're finished here." Six pulled his shirt back on with a grimace, and after Anzu disappeared in a cloud of smoke, reappearing as a somewhat smaller vixen than her mother, Six hoisted himself onto her back with a grunt.

Sesshoumaru opened his mouth to argue – someone was going to have to hold Kagome, but he held his tongue as Chizu padded over to him. He was still seated, so she was able to lower her muzzle to speak directly into his ear. "I'll carry you. You might as well take the rest while you can get it, Sesshy, dear. Berserking does so tire one."

His narrowed his eyes, resenting the implication that he was in any way unfit to continue, but the slight touch of Holden's tiny hand forestalled his reply. His turned only his eyes to her, the rest of him frozen, angry. "Sesshoumaru. Let us just get home."

Chizu's pointed nose nuzzled at Kagome. "She's resting comfortably where she is. I see no good reason to move her."

Holden's hand tightened almost imperceptibly, and the plea in her eyes was unmistakable. Rising, he placed Kagome on Chizu's back, guiding her shoulders to rest on Chizu's, so that she was lying in a relatively stable position. He offered a hand to Holden, who took it and stood, albeit a little unsteadily. He pulled her closer, picked her up, and deposited her behind Kagome.

Holden frowned her disapproval, a discontented, curiously childish sort of frown, and he managed a faint smile in return.

Chizu shook her great head. "Proud bastard. At least stay close beside me. Ana's just about had it, too, and I don't want either of them to fall." He nodded; she was right, and even if she hadn't been, he was too weary to argue with her anymore.

They made it back well before dawn, though the sun would have already risen in Italy. Kagome slept the whole way there, and Six and Holden had managed to stay awake enough not to fall off their makeshift steeds. Shippou and Anzu looked as tired as Sesshoumaru felt, and even Chizu looked a little worse for wear when they touched down in Sesshoumaru's garden. It had been, after all, a very long night.

"Six… those gunshot wounds..." Holden stumbled off Chizu's back. She steadied Kagome, but her own knees buckled beneath her. Sesshoumaru caught her easily. Holding her close, so as not to let her fall, he looked to the half-demon as well, waiting for his response.

"A good night's sleep and I'll be good as new," he promised, dismounting himself. He grimaced. "I may just pass out here and call it a night, though, and forget trying to remember where my room is in this freaking mansion."

Shippou regained his human-like appearance and scooped Kagome up from Chizu's back. Chizu opted to remain in her true form and lay down, her tails uncharacteristically limp and still. "She still sleeping in that Better Homes and Gardens excuse for a bedroom?"

Holden nodded, resting almost all of her slight, comfortable weight against Sesshoumaru. "You know you are all welcome to stay." Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, smiling inwardly. Even as exhausted as she was, her good British breeding made her an eternally attentive hostess.

"I think we may just take you up on that, Ana-san," Anzu replied, with a glance at her parents.

Shippou was already at the door, but he looked over his shoulder at them. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble," he agreed, half-apologetically. "I'll just put Kagome to bed."

Holden nodded. "Chizu, take the blue suite, on the second floor, you remember. Anzu can sleep in the adjoining chamber." Chizu resumed her own human form, though she was still lying on the ground. She stretched languorously before rising.

"Just like you to be so thoughtful, Holden." She flashed a smile, then crooked a finger at her daughter. "Come along, Anzu. Let's all try to get some rest," she said, with a wry look at Sesshoumaru. They departed quietly, and Six followed, almost staggering in his fatigue.

For his part Sesshoumaru was reluctant to return to his chambers. He seldom had a reason to have Holden this close, and… He shook his head free of those thoughts.

Holden was staring at the manor, and he cursed himself for his thoughtlessness. She was anxious to see her son, naturally; until now, she and Anastasius had scarcely spent a moment apart since her return from Geneva. He swept her up in his arms, savoring and trying not to savor the feel of her, and carried her into their home.


End file.
